


She Walks In Beauty

by Jade4813



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-06-02 22:24:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 23,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6585016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jade4813/pseuds/Jade4813
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ever since we first saw E-2 Barry and Iris, I've been intrigued by the thought of how they met and fell in love. This is slightly AU from E2 since they are already a CSI and a detective but is otherwise just having fun in that world with those different versions of our beloved characters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I really wanted to write a story about Earth 2 Westallen meeting and got this idea. Then I remembered the whole reason Joe didn’t like Bartholomew is that Iris and Barry weren’t Detective and CSI when they met. But to hell with it. I already had this idea and wanted to write it down. So I guess this is a slightly AU version of the AU that is E2.

He would never forget the first time he saw her. She breezed into the precinct, her steps brisk and efficient. The fabric of her wide-legged pants skimmed her curves and whipped around her ankles. The wide neck on her tailored shirt and upswept hair showed off the graceful line of her neck and back. Her eyes had flickered down to the watch on her wrist, and he saw the scowl that crossed her face as her pace quickened.

Her gaze lifted again, her eyes meeting his for a heartbeat, and he felt the breath leave his body in a whoosh. But if she was similarly affected, he couldn’t tell, as her gaze swept past him and locked onto someone behind him. “Brenner! I was about to come find you. You got that file I asked for? You said it would be on my desk hours ago.” Her tone was clipped, with a definite edge, but it stopped just short of being unfriendly.

Barry skittered to the side of the hallway to stay out of her way and watched, his mouth slightly agape, as she stepped to talk to a uniformed cop he could only assume to be Brenner. The older man sighed and scratched at the slight paunch that spilled over a belt that was tied perhaps one notch too tight. “Yeah, yeah, West, I was just coming by to drop it off. You know how long it takes to find anything in the archives,” he responded, his voice gruff and irritable but also – Barry couldn’t help but notice – tinged with respect. As he held out the file in question, he added, “I don’t know why you bother with these old cold cases. Most of these people are probably dead by now, anyway.”

Unperturbed by his skepticism, Iris took the file and flipped it open. “Yeah, well, even if they’re dead, doesn’t mean they don’t deserve justice,” she murmured distractedly as she skimmed the contents.

“It’s a waste of time, you know,” Brenner tried to dissuade her one last time.

Barry shifted to watch her face, wondering if she’d found what she was looking for. He couldn’t tell from her expression as, finally pulling her attention off the file, she looked up at Brenner again and slapped the folder against her palm. “Maybe. But it’s my time,” she retorted, breezing past him towards her desk, leaving him to grumble under his breath at her retreating back.

When Brenner turned and caught his eye with a scowl, Barry jumped. Mumbling an excuse, he darted to the steps leading to his lab. It was his first day at the CCPD. He couldn’t be caught standing around staring if he wanted to make a good first impression.

* * *

The second time he saw her, she came to him. He was in his lab, precisely measuring out a chemical reagent to run a test on some trace evidence when he heard a brisk rap on the frame of the open door. “Give me just a minute,” he murmured as he carefully poured some liquid from one beaker to another.

“I’ll wait.” The soft purr of her voice poured over him like velvet, causing his hand to shake. He’d only heard her speak on that one occasion, and yet he’d already recognize her voice in his sleep. The tremor in his hand caused him to be somewhat too liberal in his measurement, and so he put the beaker down with a sharp clink.

“D-Detective West!” he all but yelped, whirling towards her. Fearing he’d just betrayed himself in showing he knew who she was when they’d never officially met, he rushed to explain. “I mean, I-I assume. I read up on everyone in the department before I transferred here. You are Detective West, right?” His words tumbled over each other like water over rocks, making it something of a miracle she understood him at all.

Her lips trembled as if she wanted to smile but wasn’t sure it was a good idea. “I am. Iris West. And you’re CSI Bartholomew Allen, I presume? Or is that Dr. Allen?”

“No, no,” he interjected, pushing his glasses further up his nose. “Barry, actually. Or Bartholomew. Bartholomew is fine. Or Allen. You don’t have to call me CSI, of course. Unless you want to. Really, anything you want to call me is fine. Most people here call me – you know, it really doesn’t matter what they call me. How can I help you?” Most cops liked giving the new guy a hard time, and the cops at the CCPD were no exception. It didn’t particularly bother him, since he knew it would blow over once he’d had a chance to prove himself. But that didn’t mean he wanted the names they razzed him with in Detective West’s head.

“All right. I wanted to ask – is that supposed to be doing that?” she broke off, nodding at the beaker at his arm.

Barry looked down to see his compound was bubbling over, the contents spilling onto his workstation. “Oh, geez,” he blurted, grabbing some paper towels to dab ineffectually at the mess. “I mean, this is fine. It’s supposed to do this.” Flushing, he risked a quick glance at Iris out of the corner of his eye. He noted her arched eyebrows of disbelief and amended sheepishly, “Well, it’s not supposed to do it this – this _enthusiastically_.”

He watched as she grabbed a few paper towels and helped wipe up the mess and all but jumped when her arm brushed against his. “That’s okay,” she said teasingly but not unkindly. “I’ve always thought, if you’re going to do a job, you might as well be enthusiastic about it.”

His flush deepened at the implication she might be teasing him, but when he shot another glance towards her, he realized she was trying to make him feel better. “I guess I’m just nervous. New guy, you know.”

She hummed in understanding. “Well, don’t worry. If your dossier is accurate, you’ll fit right in here.” She waited until he met her eyes, fumbling with the paper towels he’d meant to toss into the wastepaper basket. At his shocked expression, she leaned in and murmured lightly, “I’m a detective, remember? You’re not the only one who likes to know who they’re working with.” Then, grinning at his expression, she turned and headed to the door.

“W-wait, did you want something?” he called to her back as he followed her to the door, scared his awkwardness had put her off.

Iris spun on her heel. “Yes, but it’ll wait. Nice to meet you, CSI Barry Allen.”

“You too, Iris. I mean…Detective West,” he replied, her name spilling between his lips in a sigh, too quiet for her to hear.


	2. Chapter 2

“Allen!” the Captain barked, and Barry’s stomach dropped. He was already nodding in recognition and apology as he turned, his hand lifted to the exposed top button of his shirt. Perhaps as a way to mess with the new kid or because he had to prove himself before he could be more lax with the dress code, the Captain had insisted Barry wear a tie every day. He always did in the mornings, but by mid-afternoon, he inevitably found it cumbersome when it got in his way and risked cross-contamination of his experiments, so he’d take it off. Then, of course, he’d forget to put it on again before leaving the lab.

While he might have run back upstairs to replace his tie on another occasion, today he wasn’t going to be deterred from his purpose. He’d gotten a request for a test to be run on some soil for Iris, and though she’d marked it as “Low Priority” since it was for her cold case, he’d moved it to the top of the pile. Just so he could see her when he dropped off the results. Any time he caught so much as a glimpse of her, it was the best part of his day.

He was so happy at the prospect of being able to see her that he barely registered the chuckles and muttered jokes at his expense as he passed. Though some of the younger officers nodded and one or two even offered small smiles, the grizzled veterans didn’t yet feel he was part of the team. He tried not to let their remarks get to him, but as he neared Iris’s desk and the comments followed, he started to flush in embarrassment at the thought of her hearing them.

If she heard anything amiss, however, she gave no sign. When he stopped by her desk and cleared his throat, she looked up from the report she was completing and gave him a smile that lit up the room. “Hey, there. Need something?”

He fought to keep his voice steady. “I have the results of the – of the tests I ran for you? On the soil?” She put down her pen and turned to face him fully, clearly surprised at his expediency, and it gave him the courage to continue. “You know, everyone thinks soil is just that. Just dirt, I mean. But, really, when you look at it microscopically…”

“Oh, no. Not another lecture from the Professor,” Riley, one of the oldest and most grizzled detectives on the squad, cut in. Barry scowled at the nickname. Normally he wouldn’t mind since he rather liked professors, but it had originated when the man in question had coined the nickname “The Lesser Professor.” At least he had shortened it to something somewhat less offensive this time. “What’d you do to get saddled with one of those, West?”

Iris didn’t take her eyes off Barry’s face as she shot back, “Just because your brain is too old and rusty to learn something new doesn’t mean the rest of us have the same problem.” Everyone laughed at her joke, even Riley, though his face grew a mottled shade of red as he did. When their laughter died down, she continued smoothly, “He’s passionate about his work, and I respect that. So you go on with what you were saying, CSI Barry Allen,” when she spoke his name she let it ring out a little louder than the rest, tearing her eyes away from Barry only long enough to give Riley a pointed glare. “I promise you, you aren’t bothering me.”

Bolstered, Barry finished with his explanation on the ways you could sometimes identify the region dirt was from by its particulates. The whole time, he felt like he was flying, as Iris’s attention didn’t waver for a moment. From that day on, while Riley and some of the others still made jokes at Barry’s expense, he noticed that they never did so within Detective West’s earshot.

* * *

With a heavy sigh, Barry straightened and winced when the muscles in his back immediately punished him for the hours he’d spent hunched over his workstation. A quick glance at the clock showed it was almost nine at night; he’d spent over twelve hours at the lab, and he’d barely made a dent in the backlog of work piled up on his desk.

Pulling off his glasses, he rubbed his eyes in weary exhaustion and then flicked the switches to power down his various machines. Ten minutes later, he turned off his overhead light and trudged down the stairs, intending to head home to try to get some sleep before coming in to tackle the apparently endless pile of work once more.

From habit, when he hit the bottom of the stairs, he glanced over towards Iris’s desk. Though he’d seen her leave hours before, he saw much to his surprise that her light was on. His shoulders straightening ever so slightly, he crept forward to get a better look.

Indeed, Iris was at her desk, her head bowed as she rested her cheek in her palm and stared blankly at the file spread out in front of her. His steps wavered for a moment, and he shifted his weight back and forth as he debated whether to interrupt her or leave her to her thoughts. Finally, shoving his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose, he sucked in a deep breath and stepped forward.

Iris was so lost in her thoughts, she didn’t react to his approach. He stopped by her desk and cleared his throat softly to get her attention. At the sound, she jumped, pulling out of the tiny pool of light cast by her desk lamp. Before her face was draped in shadow, however, he noticed that her eyes were suspiciously bright and her cheeks slightly damp.

“I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to interrupt. I was just leaving for the night and I noticed your light,” he explained in a soft tone.

“It’s all right.” Her smile looked forced, even cloaked in shadow. “I was just lost in my thoughts.” Her voice was shaky, but he saw her chest rise as she sucked in a deep breath. When she spoke again, she sounded as calm and collected as usual. “You’re working late. Is it the database?”

He nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets so they wouldn’t fidget and betray his thoughts. The database in question was a new initiative, launched after an increase in metahuman crime across the country. A nation-wide database was being set up, thanks in large part to his new “partner” in the lab for the last month and foreseeable future, Patty Spivot. In charge of the project, she headed a team that traveled from city to city, ensuring comprehensive data regarding all metas with a criminal record – including DNA and blood type – was entered correctly. In order to ensure accuracy, protocol dictated evidence be retested whenever possible, and that meant Barry’s work had increased tenfold.

However, not wanting to talk about his work for once, he nodded in her direction. “You look nice.” She did, too. When she’d been hunched over the desk, he hadn’t noticed, but now that she leaned back in her chair, he could see that she was wearing a black dress that swept along her curves in ways he could only imagine in his dreams. A long necklace at her throat caught the soft light as she worried at it, running her fingers down its length, and one high heel perched precariously on her toes as she rocked it back and forth absently.

“Oh. Thank you,” she murmured. Letting out her breath in a sigh, she lifted her shoulders in a slight shrug and explained. “I had a date. It was cancelled.” Then, after a brief pause, she amended wryly, “The entire relationship was cancelled, actually.”

Barry winced. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

She rolled her shoulders and shook her head as if to shake off his apology. In a deceptively light voice, she replied dismissively, “It’s all right. If I was that sorry about it, I wouldn’t be here.” He didn’t believe she was truly so nonchalant about the matter, but he didn’t know what to say as a long silence stretched between them. In the dim light, he watched as she worried her lower lip between her teeth.

“No,” she finally conceded in a heavy voice. “I suppose that won’t do. Sometimes I think you see entirely too much, you know? I imagine that’s why you’re so good at your job.”

He certainly didn’t have a response to that other than a feeble shrug, and her fingers tapped out a quick rhythm on the arm of her chair. “Do you want to talk about it?” he offered after a moment, not certain he really wanted to hear about her relationship with another man but needing to help her find comfort if he could.

She pressed her lips together. “I don’t think so. There really isn’t much to say.” But her voice had a hard edge to it that broke his heart. Blowing out a long breath, she finally conceded in a sad voice, “He was probably right, at any rate. My life is this job, and there isn’t much room left for anyone else.” She shook her head briskly, leaned into the light, and asked in a clear attempt to deflect attention from her situation, “What about you? Are you able to make time for a girlfriend, when we at the CCPD keep you in your lab so late at night?”

“Me? No. No, no. No. No,” he stammered, flushing slightly. “I mean, no, I don’t have a girlfriend, not that I don’t have time. Of course, I do work a lot, but it’s more that I haven’t found the right girl, yet. I mean, I’m not dating her. Or anyone. No.” But the tension in his shoulders eased when he saw the slight smile tug at the corners of her mouth.

“You know, one ‘no’ usually does the trick,” she teased him gently, resting her chin in her palm, and he returned her smile when he saw that the sadness in her eyes had faded. “Oh! I almost forgot! I got you something.” Reaching into her desk, she pulled out a small box wrapped in red paper with a blue bow on top. “Consider it a welcome present.”

With a wide grin, Barry accepted the present and tore open the paper. When he saw what was inside the box, however, he threw her a questioning look. “A…bowtie?” he asked in mild confusion.

Her smile grew. “I noticed your tie always seems to get in your way. This might do the trick. Have you ever worn one before?” When he shook his head, she rose to her feet and took the narrow strip of cloth out of his hand. “Here, let me help.”

Barry caught his breath as she stepped close enough he could feel the soft caress of her breath against his skin. He almost shuddered when her fingers brushed lightly at his neck as she lifted his collar and positioned the tie in place. Her gaze was intent as she worked the folds of cloth, allowing him the luxury of taking in every detail of her face – the soft curve of her lips and the way her long lashes cast shadows on her cheeks when her eyes narrowed.

She was so close he could kiss her if he was so brave. His hands shook with the desire to rest his palms on her hips and pull her close, so he balled them into fists in his pockets and focused on not making a fool of himself.

He wondered what it would be like to kiss her. Or even to wrap his arm around her waist and pull her in tight. Not that he was foolish enough to try since it was just as likely that she’d break his wrist if he did.

“There,” she said after what felt like an eternity, her voice a soft purr that invoked a wistful sigh in response. Then she stepped back to inspect her handiwork and the spell was broken. “You know, I think it suits you.”

His fingers brushed against the folds of the tie and he grinned at her. Whether it suited him or not didn’t matter to him. It was a gift from her. She had thought of him enough to give him a present to make him feel welcome – and undoubtedly because she’d heard the Captain’s repeated chastisements on the matter of his attire. He couldn’t imagine anything he could treasure more in that moment. “Thank you,” he said again. “You know, I think you may be right.”

She stared at his mouth, her eyes wide and her lips slightly parted. “Oh. I – Of course. I’m glad you like it,” she finally managed in a strained voice, tearing her eyes away and moving away to busy herself with the discarded paper.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he blurted, his voice unnaturally loud, and her eyes jerked to his face again. “I-uh-I mean to thank you. For the tie.”

She paused, and he could see the indecision on her face before she responded. “Um…no. No, thank you.” His face fell, and she explained, “I could probably use the drink, but I’m afraid I’m not the best company tonight. At any rate, it’s late and I should be getting home. Another time?”

Barry ducked his head to hide his disappointment as he stepped back. “Of course. No problem. Yeah, it’s probably a bad idea. It was just an impulse. Another time. Sure.” He watched as she tucked her file into her bag and headed for the door. Before she could leave, he called out, “Iris?” She froze at her name and turned slowly towards him, her expression enigmatic. “Whoever he was, he was an idiot for letting you go.”

He didn’t know whether something in his face or his voice gave him away, but her lower lip tucked between her teeth, and she wouldn’t meet his eyes. When she spoke, her voice was soft and a little sad. “You’re a nice guy, Barry, so take my advice. Don’t do that. Don’t fall for me. I’m not the kind of girl you should pin your dreams on.”

His heart raced at the realization she was on to him even as his stomach sank at her words. Normally, he would stammer out an excuse and try to deflect the situation, but not this time. His gaze locked on her face, he said in a voice that was implacable for all its softness, “I think you’re exactly that kind of girl. I think you’re swell.”

She shifted as if she was about to walk back to him, but she didn’t take a step. Instead, he watched the string of emotions play across her face as she rocked her weight forward, then back again. Finally, shifting her bag on her shoulder, she said in a brusque voice, “Good night, Allen. And call me West. Nobody around here calls me Iris.” Pivoting on her heel, she walked out of the squad room and through the precinct doors without looking back.


	3. Chapter 3

_“I think you’re exactly that kind of girl. I think you’re swell.”_

The words seemed to follow Iris everywhere she went. In the morning, as she got ready for work. At night, when she crawled alone into her cold bed. And of course all the moments in between, when she passed by him at work or caught a glimpse of his smile.

She was pouring the station’s usual brew of burnt coffee into a mug when Barry walked into the break room. He didn’t notice her right away; he was too engrossed in the file in his hands.

_“I think you’re exactly that kind of girl. I think you’re swell.”_

Her hand shook, slopping a little over the sides. She knew she should say something but she honestly didn’t know what. Should she address the elephant in the room, clear the air and make sure they were on the same page? Or should she just ignore it? After hastily adding cream and sugar to her mug, Iris took a big gulp, vying for time. Unfortunately, in her distraction, she didn’t think to check the temperature. Scalding her tongue on the hot liquid, she spluttered and coughed.

Barry looked up at the sound, and when he saw her, she saw the corners of his eyes crinkle from his smile. He really did have a wonderful smile. Then he seemed to realize her distress, because he nodded to the mug in her hand. “Are you okay?

_“I think you’re exactly that kind of girl. I think you’re swell.”_

“Swell,” Iris finally gasped when managed to make coherent sound, then she felt her face flush. Why did she have to say that word, of all things? He looked away, rubbing the back of his neck, and she dropped her eyes to her cup as if it held all the secrets of the universe.

This was ridiculous. She wasn’t the type to run from a difficult situation. Of course, that tended to be in her professional life, and it had been a long time since she’d really had enough of a personal life to know one way or another if the same applied. The sad truth was that her past relationships had ended all too quickly and all for the same reason, and she didn’t see that changing any time soon.

Squaring her shoulders, she took a step forward, prepared to face this issue head-on. She was many things, but she sincerely hoped a coward wasn’t one of them. The sound of her clearing her throat got his attention, and she said firmly, “We should talk about what you said the other night. I don’t think –”

But before she could say any more, Floyd Lawton walked into the room and headed for the coffee pot, interrupting the moment. When he picked up the pot and saw it was empty, he threw her a long-suffering look. “Really, West?” he drawled.

Obviously, the opportunity to talk to Barry about however he might feel for her was lost, so she forced a grin at her partner over her shoulder. “Stop complaining. That means you get to have a fresh cup.”

“Yeah, but you know I like the burnt stuff,” he grumbled, though he dutifully reached for the coffee grounds as he did so.

“That thing hasn’t been washed in at least ten years,” she pointed out. “Trust me; it’ll taste the same.”

She watched out of the corner of her eye as Barry threw her one last long look before making his way back to his lab. The expression on his face clinched it; she really was going to have to straighten things out between them. With a heavy sigh, she tried to ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach at the thought.

* * *

Three more days passed with the weight of the unspoken conversation pressing on her. As much as she wanted to clear the air with Barry, she equally dreaded having to do so. For his part, she could only imagine he sensed what was coming because the man whose movements had once been so easy to predict all of a sudden became downright squirrely. Catching more than a few seconds’ sight of him was hard enough; pinning him down for a private conversation was downright impossible.

And the truth was, she missed him. She scowled at her desk lamp as if it was to blame for the thought. She wished she could deny it, but she couldn’t. More sobering was the realization that, if she was to be totally honest with herself, she should have seen this coming. She’d seen the way he’d looked at her and she wasn’t stupid. Hell, she was a detective, for crying out loud! But she’d ignored it and told herself that there was nothing significant about the way his smile brightened or the way he looked at her as if she was the only person in the world.

She had ignored all the signs because she hadn’t wanted to hurt him – and, perhaps, to protect herself, as well. Even if she could find the courage to willingly take the chance and offer him her heart to break, she couldn’t bear the thought of breaking his. He was the kindest, most genuine man she’d ever met and she didn’t want to watch as that admiration in his eyes faded to something else. Which was unfortunately the all-too-likely outcome.

She wasn’t cynical; she was just pragmatic. It had taken a lot of hard work to become a detective, and the badge didn’t make things any easier. Like every other detective she worked with, Iris was married to her job. Work came first, before a personal life, before family, and certainly before romance. Long nights were the norm, and it wasn’t unusual to be called in weekends and holidays. Iris generally didn’t mind; she felt that what she was doing was important; she was making a difference and helping people find justice. But she also knew it wasn’t a life for everyone, and from first-hand experience – not to mention the number of her co-workers’ relationships she’d seen implode – not many were able to deal with the reality of coming in second to the job.

She didn’t want to hurt Barry. She didn’t particularly want to get hurt, either. Watching the happiness in Barry’s eyes fade to disappointment and regret would probably kill her. A little pain now beat a whole lot of pain later, so it was best to just nip things in the bud right now.

Another couple of days passed without the chance, however. She didn’t exactly avoid him, but she also didn’t try to hard to seek him out. She was ready to do what needed to be done, but that didn’t mean she relished the task.

She was at her desk, glaring balefully at nothing in particular as she considered the prospect, when her partner took his seat across from her. “Wow. Who got on your bad side, West?” he asked, grabbing a pen to finish some paperwork.

Iris sighed. “Nobody. Just…lost in my thoughts, I suppose.” She reached across to grab a few folders off the top of the pile; nobody liked doing paperwork, but it was a necessary evil. “You get those latent fingerprints we lifted dropped off at the lab?”

He lifted one shoulder in a half shrug. “Just now. Put them on top of the pile. You know, I figured you’d want to drop them off yourself. I know you and Allen are friends.” Her partner was one of the few who she’d never heard refer to Barry by anything other than his name, though whether that was out of respect for Barry or for her was a mystery.

“Maybe you don’t know as much as you think,” she snapped. Then, wincing at his expression, she softened her tone. “That was out of line,” she admitted. “I guess I am in a bad mood. Allen and I aren’t friends. Exactly. We’re…co-workers who get along reasonably well.

Lawson lifted his eyebrows but didn’t respond to that ludicrous statement. Instead, he gave his head a curt nod in acceptance of her implied apology and turned his attention back to his task. “Well, then you might not find my news as interesting as I thought. While I was upstairs, I got to talking to that Spivot woman? I think she may ask Allen out on a date. So that should be interesting.” Like Iris, Floyd was notoriously terrible at relationships, but he was secretly a hopeless romantic because he always liked watching them play out for other people.

Iris looked up at him and blinked a couple of times as she processed his statement. “Spivot and Allen?” she repeated a little stupidly before trying to recover, “Oh. That’s…good. Great! Good.”

Floyd turned the page in his report and didn’t even bother to look up at her. “Has anyone ever told you that for a great detective, you make for one terrible liar?”

Iris flushed. “I don’t know what you mean,” she lied and tried not to throw her pen at him when he snorted in response. Tossing it onto her desk to help quell the urge, she jumped to her feet. “I’ll be back,” she blurted, unconsciously smoothing out the front of her shirt. “I have something I have to do.”

“I’d say,” he murmured but she didn’t press him on his statement as she turned and stalked towards the stairs. If even her partner could see there was tension between herself and Barry, it was time to do something about it.

Her steps far more confident than she felt, Iris climbed the steps to the lab. Bursting through the door, she blurted, “Allen, we need to talk. I – ah,” she stopped short when she saw Patty wasn’t around but he wasn’t alone. “I’m sorry,” she amended, abashed, “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

The older woman turned with a smile. The auburn in her hair glinted like a halo in the light coming through the lab’s large windows. “Oh, that’s all right; you aren’t interrupting anything. We were just on our way out.” As an older man with deep laugh lines by his eyes wrapped his arm around her waist, she leaned against him with the kind of easy affection that made Iris’s heart twist.

Barry stepped forward. “These are my parents,” he explained, though she could have guessed from the love she could see in his eyes when he looked over at them. The twisting in her heart almost felt like it was about to tear her in two. “They’re going out of town for a few weeks so I offered to take them to lunch.”

“Nora and Henry,” the older man introduced himself, shaking her hand. “And you must be Iris West,” the older man said. “We’ve heard a lot about you, Detective.”

Barry turned crimson and Iris felt a flush crawl up her neck to her cheeks. “Oh,” she said, “I – uh – nothing too bad, I hope?” She honestly didn’t know how to respond to that, and Barry wasn’t likely to be any help since he refused to look at her. Not that she had the courage to really look at him, either.

“Definitely nothing too bad,” the woman – Nora – reassured her with a teasing glint in her eye. “In fact, if what my son tells me is true, we have a lot in common. I also have something of an impressive brownie addiction.”

That decided it. She was going to have to kill him. Though perhaps she’d wait first to find out how he’d caught on to said brownie addiction, since the fact she snuck one into her desk every morning to eat after work was a carefully guarded secret. Pasting on a smile, she suggested, “We’ll have to swap recipes some time. Later. Uh, Allen, I’ll come back later. I should let you say goodbye to your parents.” She backed towards the door, hoping she didn’t humiliate herself further by tripping over her feet before she could make good her escape.

“Oh, no, we know your work is important. We don’t mean to –” Nora began, but Iris cut her off.

“It’s not important,” she reassured her hurriedly. “I was just going to talk to All- er, Barry about…uh…something. It’s not important. Really.” She had a feeling she was babbling. She hated babbling. Sucking in a deep breath, she tried to get a hold of herself and added in a much firmer tone, “It was a pleasure to meet you both.”

“Oh, you too,” Henry replied. “You know, Barry really loves working here. I can see why.”

_“I think you’re exactly that kind of girl. I think you’re swell.”_

Once again, the words came unbidden to mind. She hoped Henry was talking about the lab’s state-of-the-art technology, but – heaven help her – the memory made her wonder if he was implying something more significant. Distracted, she murmured, “I’m happy he’s here, too.” Realizing how that sounded, she gave herself a mental kick and amended quickly, “I mean, we’re lucky to have him!” Then with a small wave and a pained smile, she turned and darted away.

As she all but bolted down the stairs, she heard Nora exclaim, “Oh, you were right about her! She’s absolutely lovely!”

To add insult to injury, as she got back to her desk and noticed her partner’s sly smile, she was convinced he’d made up the entire story about Patty wanting to ask Barry out, just to get a rise out of her. She might have to kill him, too.


	4. Chapter 4

“This is probably a mistake,” Iris muttered to herself as she stared at the flat wooden panel in front of her. It had seemed like such a good idea on the trip over, but now she couldn’t help but notice the potential pitfalls before her. Well, she was going to have to have a conversation with Barry at some point; she couldn’t keep putting it off indefinitely.

Before she could talk herself out of doing it now, Iris squared her shoulders and knocked briskly on the door. She didn’t hear anything on the other side, so she’d lifted her hand to knock again when it was pulled open.

Barry was on the other side, his hair adorably rumpled and dressed in a pair of cotton pajama pants and a white t-shirt. She’d never seen him so casually dressed, and she indulged herself for a moment and just took him in, her gaze sweeping from his tousled hair to his bare feet.

“Iris!” he cried in surprise, sweeping a hand through his unruly hair to try to get it into some semblance of order. She tried not to smile when she saw it only stood up straighter in defiance of his efforts. “I-I mean, Detective West. Um…I wasn’t expecting you. What –?”

She cut him off since she could tell he was gearing up for one of his endearing rambles that would only distract her from her purpose. “I should have called ahead to let you know I was coming,” she admitted, “but I was afraid you’d talk me out of it. Can I come in? We should talk.”

His eyebrows arched in surprise, he stepped back. “Y-yeah, of course!” He crossed his arms over his chest and looked down at his attire. “Um, let me just go throw on something more appropriate.”

This time, she didn’t even try to hide her smile. He was hardly scandalously dressed now, but she found his sheepishness charming. She nodded and tried to squelch such thoughts as he ducked out of the room. She was here to tell him there was absolutely no way they could be together. Not to make a list of all the things about him that made her wish that weren’t true.

While he was in the other room, she took the moment to get a look around. She’d always found there was a lot you could tell about a person in the personal touches they gave their home, and Barry’s apartment was no exception. The space was small and a little too cluttered to be considered “tidy” but there was definitely a sense of controlled chaos to the disorder. Her gaze swept over the stacks of books haphazardly piled in corners, beside the chairs, and in front of the overstuffed bookcase. One looked like it was about to lose its battle with gravity, so she gave it a tiny nudge with her toe in an attempt to buy it a little more time.

She paused in her circuit around the room to take a closer look at some framed photos on the mantle over what appeared to be a fake fireplace. All were of Barry with the couple she had met at his lab earlier in the week, his parents. She picked up one and smiled at the warmth on the faces of the family it depicted: Henry, with his arm slung around his son’s neck as Barry leaned in to rest his chin on the top of his mother’s head, where she was seated in front of them both. She had one hand raised to her shoulder, her fingers tangled with her husband’s with a level of unconscious familiarity and affection that made her catch her breath.

Putting the frame down, she continued her circuit around the room. On the small dining table – only big enough for two, really – were some files, and she was about to move on when the label of one caught her eye. She’d flipped it open and began to scan its contents when Barry walked back into the room.

She glanced up to see he’d thrown on some slacks and a button up – definitely over-estimating what was required for “appropriate attire” – though she saw that his hair still defied any attempt at taming. At his curious look, she lifted the file so he could see the name on the tab. “Honestly, I suppose I should be surprised, but I can’t say I really am,” she admitted.

He grimaced. “I was curious about your cold case,” he admitted. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Only if you try to tell me how to run my investigation,” she replied, only half-joking. “Did you find anything interesting?” she asked lightly, flipping the folder closed and putting it back on the table.

He paused, his expression uncertain as he moved closer. “Well, I was thinking about the soil samples you gave me to test,” he finally admitted. “They’re all from the same source – from the neighbor’s shoes.”

“He admitted he climbed through the living room window when he heard her daughter crying and nobody answered the door. He also admitted he found the body,” she countered.

“Why was there also dirt in the bedroom? He never said anything about going through the rest of the apartment.”

She smiled. “Not bad, Allen. I wondered the same thing. Unfortunately, as evidence goes, it’s pretty weak and too circumstantial to get a confession, much less a conviction.” She crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a considering look. “With instincts like that, you’d make a decent detective. I don’t know why I should be surprised. I said before that you see too much.”

One corner of his mouth lifted in a slight smile. “You’re giving me too much credit. Maybe I don’t see all that much. Maybe I just see you.”

Iris sucked in a sharp breath, her heart twisting. “Allen, I –”

“There is something I’ve been wondering,” he interjected quickly, and even though she suspected he was trying to forestall the conversation, she didn’t press the issue. “Why this case?”

“You don’t think everyone deserves justice?” she asked, though not unkindly.

“No, of course they do! I just wondered if there was something about this case in particular.”

Humming softly in the back of her throat, Iris turned and made her way to the couch. Lowering herself into the seat, she waited until he joined her and then admitted, “I met her daughter. The victim’s daughter. Gillian. She came to the precinct and begged us to re-open her mother’s case. I probably would have looked into it anyway, but there was something about her…she got to me. You know, she was so young when her mother died… well, you’ve read her statement.

“When she asked me to reopen her mother’s case, she told me that she’d never been able to forgive herself for not doing anything to help when she heard the attack. She was too scared, so she curled up under the covers instead until it was over. I can’t even imagine what that experience would have been like for her.”

“She was only six when it happened. She couldn’t have done anything to save her mother, even if she’d tried,” Barry pointed out softly.

“I know. She knows that, too, on some level. But she’s lived with this monster in her head for over a decade. It’s time she gets some peace.”

He fell silent as he stared at her, his head cocked slightly to the side. “You know, you act tough, but I think you’re a lot more soft-hearted than you pretend.”

She blew out a heavy breath. “Don’t bet on it,” she retorted in a tone devoid of emotion. “I came here to break your heart, after all.”

She watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard. Instead of responding, he asked quickly, “Would you like something to drink? Water or something? I’m being rude. I –”

He started to rise but she grabbed his hand, pulling him back down. “We’ve put this off long enough. We need to talk about…about what you said.”

She took a deep breath to try to squelch the sinking feeling in her stomach and continued once she was reassured he wouldn’t bolt, “I’m not a fool, you know. I’ve seen the way you look at me. I can tell you have hopes for the two of us. But you have to understand…it would never work out.”

He rubbed his neck with one hand, sweeping along the back of his head. It made one lock of his hair stand straight up, but Iris fought the temptation to smooth it back down. “I don’t accept that,” he said finally.

Iris huffed. “Do you know what the departmental relationship failure rate is? I don’t know exactly, but it’s somewhere around eighty percent. And that’s just in general. Now do you want to know how long my relationships last on average before they implode? Four months. You don’t want to date me. Believe me.”

He seemed almost irritatingly unfazed by her logic as he argued with a touch of bravado. “Well…that seems like a pretty circumstantial argument, Detective. Hardly enough for a conviction. I think if you’re going to make your case, you’re going to have to give me more evidence than that.”

Her jaw dropped. “Are you…did you honestly just…”

“It sounded less dorky in my head,” he admitted with a sheepish grimace.

It had been dorky. It had also been so damn adorable, it had made her want to grab him and kiss him.

Continuing on as though desperate to make her forget what he had just said, he rushed to add, “But I do think you should prove that things wouldn’t work out between us. Let me buy you that drink, to thank you for the bowtie. Prove to me that I don’t want to date you.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You want me to prove to you that it would be a catastrophe for the two of us to date by…going on a date with you?” she reiterated, primarily because she couldn’t believe his argument.

He nodded, the corners of his mouth lifting in what she would swear was self-satisfaction, except his eyes strayed to the side as if he was too shy to retain eye contact. “Otherwise, I’m just going to keep believing you’re perfect,” he pointed out. His voice was calm, but she watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard again, betraying his nervousness.

If she were standing, she’d put her hands on her hips. Since she wasn’t, Iris jumped to her feet so she could do so. Pacing back and forth, she pursed her lips and looked over her shoulder at the paradoxical man as he rose to his feet. She honestly didn’t know whether to kiss him or slug some sense into him. Unable to decide, she threw her hands into the air. “Oh, all right,” she agreed, then sucked in a sharp breath, wondering where that had come from. She was almost certain she’d been about to shoot him down. Unfortunately, she liked him more than she wanted to admit, even to herself.

Since she could hardly backtrack at this point, she ducked her head and considered her options. When she looked up at Barry again, she found she couldn’t meet his eyes so she stared at his lips as she stipulated in a shaky voice, “Saturday night. One drink. But if we’re going to do this, we’re going to do this right. You will pick me up at my place at eight, and don’t even think about being late.”

His answering grin was so damn endearing, she had to remind herself once again that kissing him would be self-defeating. “Good! Great! I-I mean – oh, geez, I can’t wait!” he managed, all but tripping over his tongue. “Eight o’clock Saturday. It’s a date!” He was practically levitating onto his tiptoes with excitement.

“Eight. Right,” she repeated, her gaze wary as she backed to the door. Why was she agreeing to this? She wanted him to understand that things could never work between the two of them. She didn’t want to be charmed by him over drinks. And he was charming. To an almost unnerving degree.

She turned to leave but then hesitated with her hand on the knob. Looking at him over her shoulder, she mused, “You know, you seem to be this unassuming guy, but it’s a dangerous thing, underestimating you.”

With a grin that belied the innocence in his eyes, he responded cheerfully, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. But just so you know, I understand why you don’t think things can work out between us, but I plan to prove you wrong on our date.”

It irritated her that she didn’t doubt it for a second.


	5. Chapter 5

“All right; who squealed?” Iris asked on a heavy sigh, sagging against her half-open door.

Her father feigned innocence as he brushed past her, but there was definitely a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I can’t just stop by and see how my little girl is doing?”

She rolled her eyes and shut the door after him. “At 7:30 on a Saturday night, when I have a date at 8? No.”

“You have a date?” he asked with an over-exaggerated gasp. “I had no idea!”

“Uh huh.” She snorted and shook her head, but she had to fight the urge to smile. “You know, if you’ve come here to try to get information about my date, you’re going to be disappointed.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he lied. “I actually wanted to come by and take a look at that leak under your sink. You know, you can’t put off getting that fixed or the problem will only get worse.”

She arched her eyebrows at him. “It’s been leaking since October. You just now decided it was an emergency?” After a pause, she asked curiously, “And do you even know anything about indoor plumbing?”

Unperturbed, Joe started rolling up his sleeves as he walked towards the bathroom. “I’m sure I can figure it out. You keep getting ready for your date; don’t let me distract you.”

“Don’t think I won’t,” she muttered under her breath with another good-natured shake of her head. She had already finished with her hair and makeup, so she ducked into her bedroom to change into the silky red dress she’d picked out for the evening. Perhaps it was for the best that her father had stopped by, since it distracted her from over-thinking her clothing decision yet again.

Grabbing her favorite fair of strappy heels from her closet, Iris stood in the bathroom door so she could talk to her dad as she slipped them on. “You going to tell me who told you about my date?” 

Under the sink, Joe chuckled. “I was talking to Maggie earlier and she may have mentioned something.”

Iris paused, one shoe dangling from her finger. “Who’s Maggie?”

“She sings on Tuesdays. Anyway, she heard something from Steve who heard something from Terri. Who I believe heard about your date from your partner.”

“Oh, my god. You have a better network of informants than I do,” she grumbled, slipping her foot into her shoe with a bit more force than was strictly necessary. She knew she should never have taken her partner to Jitterbug that one time, to see her dad sing. He’d been a regular ever since, largely because of his crush on the bartender, Terri. “You’d have made a pretty good detective, you know.”

Joe chuckled. “I’m happy where I am. Though I’d happy switch jobs with you if it meant you wouldn’t be in danger all the time.”

She snorted. “You’ve clearly forgotten how painful it is to have to listen to me sing,” she pointed out wryly. Before their conversation could continue, Iris heard a knock on the door. “Behave,” she told her father sternly before racing to the door. On the way, she shot a quick glance at the clock.

“You’re right on ti– are you okay?” she asked in genuine alarm when she flung open the door and caught sight of her date.

He was bent over, his palms resting on his knees as he struggled to catch his breath. “Ran…here. Didn’t want…to be…late,” he confessed between gasps for air. Throwing her a pleading look, he asked, “Can I…sit down…for a minute? I think…I’m having…a heart attack.”

“Yes, of course!” she agreed, reaching for Barry’s arm to escort him to the couch. While he struggled to catch his breath, she got him a glass of water. While he was recovering, she saw Joe step out of the hallway and into the living room, though her date was too preoccupied to notice. After one glance at Barry’s state, she saw her father’s eyebrows rise and, without a word, he turned and walked to the bathroom again, his head shaking all the while.

Ignoring Joe’s incredulity for the moment, she turned her attention back to Barry. “Now, you want to tell me why you were almost passing out on my doorstep?” she asked in a joking tone when he seemed recovered enough to speak.

Shoving his glasses up his nose, Barry explained in a stammering tone, “I-I was afraid I was going to be late.”

“You could have called,” she pointed out, taking the empty glass from him and putting on a nearby table. “I would have understood if you were a couple minutes behind.”

At this point, she didn’t know why she should be so surprised that the mild-mannered man in front of her could be so obstinate when he stood and argued, “I promised I’d be on time. I wasn’t going to break my promise.”

Iris tried and failed to repress the urge to roll her eyes, even as she appreciated the sentiment. “Well, next time, promise or no promise, just call. I’d rather have a date who’s five minutes late than one who’s having a heart attack.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him grin. “What?” she demanded, her eyes narrowing.

“Nothing! You just said I should call you if I’m going to be late for our date next time.” Lifting his weight onto his toes in barely repressed excitement, he pointed out, “You just said there’s going to be a next time.”

Iris ducked her head so he wouldn’t see her answering smile. “Yeah, well. It’s a possibility, not a promise. Don’t get ahead of yourself,” she grumbled, pulling him towards the door. “Now, come on. It’s a nice night, and I’m in the mood for a walk. If I recall correctly, you owe me a drink, and there’s a place nearby that serves reasonably good ones.”

She assumed he’d made plans for the two of them already, but he didn’t argue as she slipped her arm through his. Nor did he comment as she rested her head on his arm as they strolled down the street to the bar. She almost wished he had – if he’d remarked on it, she would have felt compelled to pull away. As it was, she spent the short walk thinking about how nice her hand felt in his and how natural it felt to have him by her side.

* * *

A couple hours later, she was on her second drink and was somehow still captivated by the man sitting across from her. He was telling her about an idea he had to use the information Spivot had been compiling into the national database. His idea wouldn’t just catalogue metahumans; it would allow the CCPD to use the information to track them down.

“I don’t think people realize how much our lives fall into day-to-day patterns, even when we don’t mean to do it. We get up at the same time, take the same route to work. We always have a cup of coffee when we get to the office and another right after lunch. Our lives are full of patterns!” She sipped her beer and just watched the range of emotions play across his face as he got carried away with his subject. His passion was infectious, so she made a mental note to talk to the Captain about green-lighting the project at the next opportunity.

“Of course, metahumans would be the same, but for a lot of them, new patterns would form after they discovered their powers. Maybe only a few people would know about their abilities, so these new patterns would revolve around their confidants. Or the nature of their abilities would dictate new patterns. They might need more privacy, or easier access to food or supplies, or the ability to regulate their temperature. Who knows? But this program would take whatever information we have and enter into the system, and it could recognize patterns we might not –” he paused, catching her eye, and his face fell.

“Oh, geez, I’m rambling,” he muttered, ducking his head but shooting her a quick look over the rim of his glasses.

“It’s fine!” she reassured him. “I told you before; it doesn’t bother me.”

He offered her a wan smile. “Still, I think the point of going out tonight was to forget about work for a while. Why don’t we talk about something else? Are you sure you don’t want something more substantial to eat than those chips? I could order us –” He jerked his arm into the air to get the waiter’s attention, but in doing so, he accidentally knocked over his drink. It was almost full, and lukewarm beer sloshed into Iris’s half empty bowl of chips and onto the tabletop itself, aiming for his lap.

His face turned beet red as he jumped to his feet and tried ineffectually to mop up the mess with the remains of one soggy cocktail napkin. He looked so miserable and embarrassed as he murmured apology after apology, Iris couldn’t stand it.

Jumping to her feet, she grabbed the disintegrating napkin out of his hand and threw it back on the table. “Come on,” she demanded, speaking over his attempt to issue yet another apology for his clumsiness. “Let’s dance.”

“Oh, but I-I don’t…I mean, I’m sure with a few more napkins…you shouldn’t feel you have to –” he stammered, his eyes darting around in search of something else to clean up the mess.

Iris squeezed his hand and waited until he met her eyes. “I don’t have to do anything, Allen. I want to dance with you. Are you really going to disappoint me?”

She watched the tension drain from his shoulders, as he forgot all about the spilled drink. After a quick shake of his head, he pushed his glasses up his nose and didn’t protest as Iris led him onto the dance floor. “I’m not a very good dancer,” he admitted, though he didn’t argue as she stepped close to him and wrapped one arm around his neck, taking his free hand in hers.

“That’s okay,” she murmured encouragingly, “it’s a slow song.“ The bluesy voice carrying through the microphone was singing about how easy it would be to fall in love, and Iris tried not to let the words get to her as she started to sway to the music. Barry was initially tense, but as she rested her head against his shoulder, she felt him begin to relax. Even though he didn’t sway anything close to the beat of the music and almost stepped on her toes a time or two, she didn’t mind as she lost herself in the feel of having him in her arms.

It was a terrifying truth, realizing how much she liked him. It wasn’t just his enthusiasm or the endearing way his eyes lit up when he smiled. It wasn’t the fact he made her laugh or the hundred other ways he made every day just a little bit brighter. It wasn’t even his ability to say things that took her by surprise and took her breath away.

She liked him. She liked spending time with him, liked seeing the things that captured his interest, when he got carried away in one of his rambling lectures. She’d liked seeing him with his parents, witnessing their obvious love for each other, that helped make him the man he was today. She liked it when he laughed, when he let go of the nervous self-consciousness that too often tripped him up, and she liked watching him when he was wrapped up in work, his attention totally focused on one thing such that the rest of the world might not exist.

And she liked how he looked at her. The way his expression softened and his gaze grew warm. She liked the way he noticed things about her that she didn’t think anyone else knew, and she wanted to believe that he could keep looking at her like that forever.

She swayed against him, forgetting the music, moving to the rhythm of his heartbeat against hers. Her hand trailed along his shoulder to wrap around the back of his neck. His hair slipped between her fingers, surprisingly soft and silky to the touch. Her other hand released his, tracing the long length of his arm to caress his side. She felt him suck in a breath, the skin under her palm tensing.

“Iris?” he breathed, his hand tentative on her hip.

She leaned in, using the hand on his neck to pull him to her. “I don’t –” she began, but just then, her phone rang.

They both froze. Iris’s breath caught in her throat. She knew it was work; nobody else would call her at this time on this number – other than her father, and she doubted he would interrupt her date. For a moment, she actually considered ignoring it. Just this once, would it be so bad to let the people of Central City fend for themselves? Was it really selfish of her to want to have this – this moment, this man – all to herself?

But of course she couldn’t ignore it. She had a duty to her job. The day she received her badge, she’d sworn an oath to put the people of Central City and the pursuit of justice before herself. If that promise meant anything, it had to do so when she didn’t want to live up to it as much as when she did.

Pulling away, Iris grabbed her phone from the pocket cunningly sewn into her dress and turned slightly away from Barry while she took the call. She knew she was going to get called away; she didn’t think she could bear to see his disappointment as she did. “Yes,” she answered in a curt voice. After listening for a few moments, she sighed. “I’m out at the moment, so I’ll need to run home and change. Tell the captain I’ll be there in twenty…make it twenty-five minutes.”

As she hung up, she turned back to her date. “I’m sorry, I –”

“It’s okay,” he interjected, offering her a smile. She looked away so she didn’t have to see the disappointment she was sure he would try to hide, her heart breaking. This was exactly what she had been trying to avoid. “You have to go to work. I understand.”

“It’s just that I’m on this task force to find the bank robbers, and we’ve tracked them down. We need to try to pull them in before they make a run for it.” Even as she explained, she was slowly backing towards the door, aware she didn’t have much time.

Taking her arm, Barry led her to the edge of the dance floor. “It’s okay. Really,” he reassured her. “Don’t worry about me; I’ll take care of the bill. You go do what you need to do. But, Iris? I want you to know, I had a really good time tonight.”

“I – I did, too,” she admitted. Then, before she could say more or linger longer than she should, she turned and darted towards the door. Barry was being nice about their date, but she wasn’t a fool. As abruptly as she’d had to leave, just when things were getting interesting, she had no hope that he would ask her out on another one.

* * *

Twenty-two minutes later, Iris stalked into the squad room. Though she had tried to put her failed date out of her mind, it had soured her mood. Even Lawton moved out of her way as she made her way to the coffee pot in the break room. It was a little after eleven, but to hell with the hour. If she couldn’t have a drink to drown her sorrows, a cup of stale coffee would have to do.

“All right, everybody. As soon as Riley gets here, you’re heading out! This is his case, so what he says in the field goes. I’m sure I don’t need to tell anyone here, but the Corell Brothers have shot and killed three people during their robberies, so if any of you so much as think of walking through those doors without a vest on, I’ll have your badge!” The captain’s voice carried into the break room, and she grunted at the threat. She’d put on a vest when she’d finished getting her coffee.

Once it was doctored to her liking, she gulped the hot liquid, barely noticing when it almost scalded her tongue. When she heard a noise behind her she turned, expecting to see Lawton coming in to remind her not to get on the captain’s bad side. Instead, she saw Barry, calmly sitting at one of the tables, quietly reading a paper.

Putting her mug on the counter with a loud clink, she hurried over to him. “Allen! What are you doing here? You know you don’t need to wait for us to get back; we’ll bring you all the evidence for you to process in the morning.”

Barry seemed calm as he put the paper down and looked up at her, but his tone was tinged with nervousness when he replied. “I know,” he admitted. “I’m not waiting for you guys to get back. I mean, I am, but I’m not…,” he gestured wildly towards the squad room, “not them.” Groaning, he sat back. “I always seem to stumble over my words when I’m talking to you,” he grumbled ruefully to himself, one hand forming a fist where it fell against his knee.

After taking a moment to collect his thoughts, he sucked in a deep breath and met her eyes again. “I’m waiting for you.” Leaning towards her, he took her hand. “Iris, I was being honest earlier. I understand why you had to leave our date. This is important. Being the best detective in Central City is important to you. Well, you’re important to me. So you go do what you need to do, and when you’re done, I’ll be here waiting.”

She tried to pull away, but he held tight to her hand. “It could be four in the morning when I get back,” she protested weakly. “You don’t want to be waiting here all that time. It’s not like we can pick up our date where we left off at that point; we’ll be dead on our feet! Anyway, you’ll be pretty bored, sitting around here.”

He cleared his throat, his head ducking. She saw him blush and he kept his gaze on their hands as he said, his voice shy and tentative, “I won’t be bored. I’ll be waiting to see you again. You’d be surprised how much I do that every day. Look forward to seeing you, I mean. It doesn’t sound like a waste of time to me.”

“You –” she began, but the captain’s bellow carried into the break room.

“West! Where are you?”

Iris groaned. Sometimes it felt like the universe was against them. “I should – I have to go,” she blurted as she jumped to her feet.

Barry followed. “I know,” he said with a warm smile. ”Just…be safe. Okay? And, like I said, I’ll be here when you get back.”

She knew she should go. She definitely should. As it was, she had never gotten around to getting her vest, so he’d probably put her on desk duty for a week as punishment. Hell, she’d be lucky if it was just a week.

She managed enough resolve to move one foot in the general direction of the door. The rest of her stayed right where it was – right where she realized she wanted to be. With him.

“Uh, Iris, you should go,” he reminded her, his brow furrowing as he searched her face. Still, she didn’t move. “Iris? Is everything –”

“Damn it, Barry,” she growled. Grabbing him by the lapels of his jacket, Iris pivoted and shoved Barry against the wall. Even in heels, he still towered over her. She had to wrap her hands around his neck to pull him down to her level.

As Iris’s lips met his, she forgot that she was at work. She forgot about the team waiting for her in the squad room, about the bank robbers she was supposed to be gearing up to arrest. She certainly didn’t think about the fact that she shouldn’t be kissing her co-worker in the middle of the break room, where anyone could walk in on them – particularly not when she was supposed to be focusing on those other things.

None of those things mattered compared to his kiss. She felt his gasp of surprise as she sucked his lower lip into her mouth, scraping it lightly with her teeth. But as he relaxed against her, she felt more than heard the moan that rumbled in his chest. He wrapped her in his arms and pulled her hard against his chest, nearly lifting her off her feet. His tongue swept along her lower lip, making her gasp in return. Iris responded by grabbing onto his coat, her hands fisting into the material as she deepened the kiss.

When she finally broke away, she found that his glasses had slid down his face so that her nose was the only thing keeping them up. Giving the rims a little nudge with her nose, she pushed them back onto his face. “I look forward to seeing you, too,” she murmured against his mouth, then sighed as she brushed her lips against his one more time.

“WEST!” The irate bellow broke the mood, making her jump. Because it would be too easy to give into the desire to linger, she darted to the door without another word. At this rate, she’d be lucky if desk duty was her only punishment.

But even as she ran into the other room, she found she still had a dopey smile on her face. Even if she was put on desk duty for a month, kissing Barry had definitely been worth it.

It looked like she was going to have to promise him that second date, after all.


	6. Chapter 6

As it turned out, Iris seemed to enjoy grabbing Barry for surprise kisses. It wasn’t long before Barry figured he’d seen the back of every door, every isolated hallway, and every hidden corner in the precinct. Not that he minded, of course, but he also never quite grew used to it. Every time she grabbed him by the jacket and dragged him off for an impromptu kiss, he could feel himself getting flustered, his face growing hot. But then, when she pulled away and grinned up at him, the amused glint in her eye left him wondering if she didn’t consider that part of the appeal.

Well, if blushing and stammering meant she never stopped looking at him like that, he would do whatever he could to continue doing it. For the rest of his life.

A sound on the other side of the door made him jump, but Iris didn’t miss a beat. “So, you were you saying?” she asked a little too loudly, her nonchalance a little too feigned as she released his jacket and moved to sit in the chair by his desk. They were supposed to be eating lunch, but they’d gotten distracted before they could start. Barry would worry that he was the only one fazed by their kisses, save for the color in her cheeks and the way she didn’t quite meet his eyes as she sucked in a deep breath.

“I was – uh – yes, of course,” he stammered, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he tried to remember what the heck she was talking about. He’d been saying something? “Um, r-right,” he gulped, glancing desperately around the lab for inspiration, “I was wondering if you’d ever thought about what powers you would want to have, if you were a metahuman.” He was almost certain that he hadn’t been asking that, but his higher brain function was still on time out; it was the best he could come up with on short notice.

Her eyebrows rose as Iris reached across the desk to steal one of his fries. He’d gotten in the habit of bringing her lunch every day, for fear that she would work through lunch and forget to eat (and not for the first time) if he didn’t, but she often seemed to prefer his food to her own. Even when they were eating the same thing.

“Hey!” he yelped in mock affront, snatching his fries away and trying not to break when he saw her grin. “I will have you know that these fries are mine, Detective.”

“Now, Allen, the first thing you need to know about having a partner is that partners share,” she pointed out, the corners of her mouth twitching.

He gave in to an irrepressible grin as he leaned his chair back, his long legs lifting the front feet of the chair off the ground. “I think Lawton would take issue with you calling us partners.”

Her cool demeanor was belied by the color that flooded her cheeks as she dropped her gaze to her food. “Maybe ‘partners’ isn’t the right word,” she admitted. “Because I think of doing things with you that I have never once been tempted to do with him.”

Several things happened at once. Barry’s heart leapt, his pulse began to race, and he jerked in his chair. Unfortunately, in its current position, it caused the chair to tilt precariously backwards and he had to scramble to not topple over with it. He barely managed to catch himself in time, his breath catching in his throat as the chair righted itself abruptly. “Oh,” he breathed, his mouth gone suddenly dry. He couldn’t even think of what to say. “Gosh.”

Iris met his eyes and a charged silence passed between them. Finally, flicking her tongue against her lower lip, she sucked in a deep breath. “So, what metahuman power would I want? I don’t know; I haven’t really thought about it.” Her fingers tapped a quick rhythm against the desktop, and then she added, “Is there a power where people couldn’t lie to me? That would certainly make my job easier. What about you?”

It took him a moment to catch up to the conversation, since he was still fixated on her confession. Once he did, however, he replied, “I don’t need a power. I have everything I could ever want.”

She wasn’t buying it. Though her gaze was warm, she glowered and gestured emphatically with her sandwich. “That’s cheating,” she scolded him.

Barry took a bite of his food as he thought it over. “Well, I don’t know that there’s a particular power I’d want,” he confessed, “And I don’t know if there’s something about having abilities that makes people go bad – they say power is corruptive – or if we only hear about the ones who have gone bad because of our jobs. But I think it would be nice to have an ability that would help people. It would be nice to have that confidence of knowing you’re making a difference.”

Her head tilted to the side as she regarded him silently. “You make a difference, Barry.”

Embarrassed by his confession, he lifted one shoulder in an offhand shrug. “I know I do, working here. But it’s not the same thing.”

He watched as her mouth puckered and twisted to the side. “Are you afraid what you do isn’t good enough?” she asked in a gentle tone.

Barry sighed. “No. Maybe. Sometimes,” he admitted. “I mean, I don’t want to give you the wrong impression. I love what I do! It’s just…sometimes I wish I could do more.”

She nodded her head so slightly, the movement would have been imperceptible for someone who didn’t have Barry’s almost painful awareness of everything she did. “I think I understand what you mean,” she murmured after a long moment. “But I think that’s probably natural, with what we do. No matter how many people we help, we’ll always remember the ones we couldn’t and on some level wonder if we could have done more.” She paused and then added pointedly, “Take your new metahuman database. I have no doubt it’ll help a good number of people, once it’s up and running.”

Barry hid his sigh behind a bite of his ice-cold fries. “Probably. But you also know I’ll be working a lot more late nights if I want it to be of use anytime soon. Particularly if it takes a couple of months to bring in another CSI, as the captain said.” He frowned; his food no longer having any appeal, he pushed it away.

“I know a little bit about late nights,” she offered in a wry tone, reaching for his hand.

Linking his fingers in hers, he pointed out, “But you’ve admitted they can be hard on relationships.”

“Do you think I’ll be run off so easily?” She sounded like she wasn’t sure whether to be amused or affronted.

“It’s not that!” His protest sounded weak, even to his own ears. He paused, searching for the right words. “I think you’re wonderful, and if you want to know the truth, being with you…you’re amazing, and I keep thinking at any moment, I’m going to wake up and find this was all a dream.”

Her eyebrow arched. “A dream, huh?” Pushing their uneaten food aside, she rose and moved to his chair. “Maybe I’ll have to show you how real I am.” Bracing her hands on the arms of his chair, she knelt on either side of his legs and lowered her weight into his lap.

“I-Iris,” he breathed, not daring to move as she slowly removed his glasses and put them on the table.

“Consider it a scientific experiment,” she murmured against his skin as she brushed kisses along the line of his jaw. When she shifted against him, he groaned, his head falling back against the chair.

His lips sought out her mouth, but she teased him, always staying ever so slightly out of reach. A growl rumbled deep in his throat. Pulling her hard against him stood, causing her to squeak in surprise when he leaned forward until she was perched on the edge of his desk. Her legs wrapped tight around his hips as he wrapped his hand around her neck pulled her mouth against him, his pulse pounding in as he deepened the kiss.

She arched against him, and he took the opportunity to run his hand up her side from her hip to her chest. When he cupped her breast in his palm, he reveled at her soft purr of pleasure.

Her head fell back and she murmured, “So, are you satisfied I’m real?”

“Oh, I am _definitely_ dreaming,” he growled, pressing his body even tighter against her. She let out a strangled laugh and was reaching for his bowtie when the door to his lab flew open.

“Hey, Allen, is – _oh my god_!” Lawton yelped, slamming the door closed again.

Barry and Iris froze, their eyes locked. He’d been so lost in the kiss, he’d completely forgotten where they were, and he suspected she had done the same. “No. This is definitely real,” he admitted in resignation, letting her push him away so she could jump to her feet and the two of them could put their clothing to rights. Her flushed face was matched only by his own.

“I can’t believe we almost –” she began, but he cut her off.

“Don’t say it.” His voice was strained as he tried not to think about it. At least one part of him wasn’t deterred by the unexpected interruption, and he doubted thinking about what could have happened would help matters.

“I should – ah – I should see what he wanted,” Iris blurted as she straightened her clothes. Without another word, she ran out the door.

“Oh, geez,” Barry breathed as he sunk back in his chair. The woman would be the death of him, yet.

* * *

Between his usual duties, going through old files with Patty Spivot, and trying to get his own database off the ground, Barry’s next few weeks were hectic, to say the least. It was fortunate that he and Iris worked together or they probably wouldn’t have seen each other at all. As it was, they saw each other less frequently than either would like; concerned that their relationship would compromise the perceived integrity of his lab, Iris had removed herself from the handling of any forensic evidence in any open case. Even though they both knew he would never let his personal relationship with her compromise his work, even the suggestion of impropriety in a single case would cast a pall on the CCPD as a whole.

They were also being more cautious about those stolen kisses. It had been a little embarrassing, dealing with Lawton’s mild teasing and knowing looks. It would have been so much worse if the captain had been the one in the doorway that day. The very thought made Barry feel faint.

They didn’t get as much time together as they would have liked, and on days that they worked opposing shifts, it was a challenge to see each other at all. But he liked to think that the moments he did get with her were all the sweeter for it. Whenever possible, they grabbed their meals together – even when it meant grabbing a quick bite of cold fast food in the staff lounge. When she had some down time, she would stop by his lab to help Spivot with her work, helping relieve some of the pressure of Barry’s workload. It wasn’t an ideal situation, but every day that passed, Barry consoled himself with the knowledge that they were one day closer to the light at the end of the tunnel. The budget for a new lab tech had been approved, and they were in the midst of the recruitment process.

One evening, Barry was working at his mass spectrometer when he looked at the clock and saw it was after midnight – well after the time he should have gone home. Iris’s shift had ended at ten, so she was probably already gone. After wrapping everything up in the lab, he trudged downstairs, poking his head into the squad room to look for Iris out of habit. He didn’t see her, but Lawton was bent over his desk, rooting around for something in his drawer.

“Hey,” Barry called out. Since Iris and Lawton worked the same shifts, he would have assumed they would both be gone by now.

The other man turned and threw him a wan smile. “Hey, Allen. You’re here late.”

“I could say the same thing to you,” he pointed out. “Did Iris – uh – Detective West go home?” At the bemused facial expression this question prompted, he asked, “Where is she?”

Lawton led him to a side room, where Iris was perched on the edge of a table, drinking from a mug of coffee as she stared at a white board covered with information about her cold case. Barry felt his exhaustion melt away, just at the sight of her. “Hey, where did you put your notes on the interviews you did with his girlfriend?” Iris asked, not even turning as they walked in.

“Ah, I think they’re in the stack of papers to your left,” Lawton replied. “But they weren’t very helpful.”

She sighed. “I know. I just keep hoping there’s something there I’m not seeing.”

Stepping forward to hand Iris the blank notepad he’d grabbed from his desk, Lawton mentioned, “I ran into Allen on his way out,” before moving to the side to give them a moment of privacy.

She turned in surprise, but her face relaxed into a small smile when she saw him. “Hey,” she greeted him in a soft murmur. “I thought you’d gone home.”

She looked exhausted, and so it took every ounce of his self-control not to wrap his arms around her so she could rest her head against his chest. But they were still working out where they needed to draw the line between their personal professional lives, and he didn’t want to cross it. So he forced himself to keep his arms by his side as he moved closer to her. “I had some work to do. What about you?”

“It’s this case,” she admitted, heaving a heavy sigh as she turned her attention back to the board in front of her. “I know this guy did it; I just can’t prove it. Nobody’s talking; Lawton interviewed Claire Wilcox, his girlfriend at the time. She obviously knows something, but she made it clear she’s scared and has no intention of talking. We have no new evidence. If we don’t catch a break, this guy is going to get away with murder.”

Barry didn’t even hesitate. “How can I help?”

Iris shot him a quick look out of the corner of her eye. “You have enough on your plate and you’ve had a late enough night as it is; I can’t ask you to stick around any later to help with this.” Throwing a glance at her shoulder at Lawton, she added in a louder voice, “I feel bad enough I can’t get this big lug to call it a night, but he says –”

“We’re partners,” the man in question interjected, his jaw set in a stubborn line. “I’m staying.”

She threw Barry a long-suffering look. “You see what I have to deal with?”

But Barry wasn’t swayed by her attempt to let him off the hook. “If you’re here, I’m here, remember?” he asked, reaching up to move a wisp of hair off her cheek. In the back of the room, Lawton pretended to be utterly fascinated by a blank spot of wall.

Iris turned her head to brush a kiss against his palm and then cleared her throat. “All right. If the two of you insist upon being so stubborn, we shouldn’t waste any more time. Where do we start?”

Barry leaned against the table and adjusted his glasses, giving the white board in front of him his full attention. “Start at the beginning,” he suggested. “I read the file, but I probably know less about this case than either one of you. Don’t focus on the suspects; just talk me through the scene.”

They started, walking him through the crime, interviews, and evidence step by step. At least an hour had passed by the time they finished, but they didn’t seem any closer to an answer than they had been at the start of the evening. Barry paced back and forth, wringing his hands as he thought it over. “There’s something I don’t understand. The victim was beaten hard enough to cause several facial fractures and then stabbed repeatedly. This was a brutal, violent attack. So how did they only find her blood at the scene?” With repeated stabbings in particular, it was typical to find the perpetrator’s blood at the scene, from where their hand would slip on the bloody knife.

Lawton sighed. “We’ve wondered the same thing. Of course, forensic technology has advanced a lot since the time of the murder. There could have been blood at the scene and they just didn’t have the tools we have today to collect it.

Barry nodded, staring at the photos of the crime scene. Lawton’s comment reminded him of something, but what was it? He was too sleep-deprived to call it to mind.

“We wondered if anything could be collected, after all this time. But apparently, a pipe burst in the kitchen a few years ago, and the entire floor was replaced. There’s nothing left of the original scene,” Iris added.

He frowned, considering the pictures. “What about in the bedroom?”

Lawton grunted. “They found dirt, but nothing in the pictures or notes indicates they found anything else. Even if we did find blood now, there would be no way to prove it was left the night of the murder.”

Iris sighed. “He had to have touched something else!” she protested.

“How did the murderer leave?” Barry asked. “Through the front door?”

“No, he couldn’t have,” Lawton replied, pointing to one of the crime scene photos, “because the body was in the way. If the door had been opened, the blood here would have smeared. That didn’t happen.”

“So he had to leave the way he entered. Through the window,” Iris murmured in agreement, her brow furrowed. “But look at that table. It’s directly in front of the window, but those candlesticks and picture frames? They look like they haven’t been touched.”

“The first officer on the scene was surprised by that, too.” Lawton shuffled through the file to find the original report. “Grady, the neighbor, reported he climbed through the window when he found the body, so the officer asked him to do it again. He thought the story sounded fishy and wanted to see if it could be done without disturbing anything on the table. According to this report, Grady was able to do it. Of course, there’s no way to prove nobody else would be able to do the same thing.”

Iris rubbed her cheek as she pondered the pictures on the white board. “They did find blood smeared on the table, but it was the victim’s. Probably transfer from the killer’s clothing.”

“And his blood would have been on his hands,” Barry agreed. “Where would you have to brace yourself to climb out the window without disturbing anything on the table?”

Iris glanced at Lawton out of the corner of her eye. “The captain has a desk in front of his window. What do you say, partner? Feel up to the challenge?”

He glowered at her. “If I get in trouble for this, you’re doing my paperwork for a month,” he grumbled, even as he moved to the door. Barry tried not to laugh. Lawton might complain, but it was obvious he was as eager to solve this case as his partner was.

Twenty minutes later, they had their answer, though it took a few tries before Lawton was able to get to the window with anything near the finesse of the murderer. After several tests, they realized that the only way he could get through the window without disturbing the objects on the captain’s desk was to brace one hand on the top of the windowsill.

“What do you think?” Lawton asked, as he rejoined them on the ground. “Do you think we might find some evidence up there after all this time?”

“Most people don’t see the tops of their windowsills,” Iris mused, “They might dust up there on occasion, but I doubt most people bleach the top of their windowsills. What do you think?”

When she looked at him, he nodded, finally remembering the thought that had eluded him earlier. “It’s possible,” he agreed, trying not to sound too excited in case this was another dead end. “In fact, I read an article the other day that someone at S.T.A.R. Labs just created a new kind of vacuum. It’s actually being used on bacteria, but I wonder if it could help collect trace amounts of blood.”

Of course, they wouldn’t know anything for certain until they obtained a search warrant and he was able to follow up on their hunch, with or without the assistance of S.T.A.R. Labs. But they could only hope that this was the break they needed – and that the captain would be more pleased with the new lead in the case than he was annoyed that they’d had to infiltrate his office to find it.

* * *

When Barry walked through the precinct doors the next day, he expected to be greeted by the usual bustle of the midday shift. Instead, the squad room was unnaturally and unnervingly silent, as Barry seemed to be the only person around. At night, the solitude was soothing, but at midday, it gave him the feeling something was seriously wrong. He dithered at the foot of the stairs, uncertain what to do next. Though he should probably get straight to work – heaven knew he had enough to do – the uncanny emptiness of the precinct set his every nerve on edge, making it unlikely he would be able to concentrate on his tasks.

“Allen!” Captain Chyre’s voice usually carried over an omnipresent cacophony of chatter, crinkling paper, overworked printers, and the general hum of day-to-day workplace bustle. Now, amidst only the soft hum of an overhead fan, it was far too loud, a harsh bark sound that shattered the quiet and caused Barry to jump. When he poked his head into the squad room, he saw a mildly abashed look on the captain’s face, as though he too were discomfited by the sudden break in the silence. “I need to see you,” he added in a quieter tone.

Barry hurried to the other man’s side, the knot in his stomach growing tighter. “Yes, sir?” And though they were alone, Chyre led the way into his office, waved Barry towards a chair, and closed the door behind them.

“I take it you haven’t heard what’s going on?” Though he seemed to be trying to form the words into a question, his tone made it a statement. Barry shook his head, almost nauseated by the utter certainty that something was seriously wrong. He was restless and wanted to stand up to pace, but that sort of thing drove his boss crazy. Instead, he rubbed his hands impotently along his thighs in an effort to relieve their nervous energy.

Chyre nodded. He was a man who rarely minced words, but in this moment, he hesitated. Then he sighed and took his seat across the desk. “We got a call about a bank robbery in progress today. Three perps, heavily armed. They have at least a dozen hostages. Everyone’s on the scene now.”

Barry knew there had to be more to it. All officers reporting to a scene was unusual, certainly, but he could tell by the look on his captain’s face that there was something he was holding back. His mouth suddenly dry, he managed to ask, “Is everyone okay?” But both of them knew his primary concern was with one person.

Chyre looked away. “There are officers down, and there’s too much gunfire for paramedics to get close to the scene. They were prepared for this.” Barry felt his hands go numb and he increased their frantic chafing in an effort to return feeling to his fingertips. He opened his mouth to ask about Iris, but he couldn’t seem to catch his breath. Anticipating his question, Chyre added, “West okay, as far as we know. But we don’t know how long this standoff will last.”

“What do you mean, as far as you know?” he choked out.

The older man frowned. “Riley’s team is drawing fire while her team is trying to infiltrate the building, to try to get to the hostages. We have officers down, but I have no reason to believe she’s one of them at this point.” Though he didn’t finish his sentence, Barry didn’t need him to. Things were likely to get worse before they got better, and Iris was directly in the line of fire.

“I have to go!” he blurted, jumping to his feet.

“I can’t let you do that,” Chyre barked, stopping Barry from racing to the door.

Sucking in a deep breath, he replied in indignation, “With all due respect, sir, you can’t stop me. You could threaten to fire me, but I’ll just resign. So unless you plan to arrest me –”

Chyre interrupted his display of bravado. “If you go over there, you won’t be able to help and you may get Iris killed.” At the words, Barry felt his legs give out under him and he sank back into his chair. In a softer voice, the older man continued, “You’re an invaluable asset to the team, Allen, but you and I know you don’t belong on the front line. If you go over there, she’s going to worry about you being in danger. Right now, she needs to keep her mind on the job; she can’t afford to be distracted by worrying about you.

“I-I can’t just sit here and wait,” he protested weakly.

“I understand.” Chyre opened a desk drawer and pulled out a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. Pouring a healthy amount in each, he held one out for Barry to take. “You know, I haven’t talked to either of you about your relationship. Mostly because it’s none of my business, as long as it doesn’t interfere with either of your jobs.”

“O-of course not!” Barry interjected quickly in response to his commanding officer’s quick steely glance.

Leaning back in his chair, the older man continued, “But also because I knew there was no way to prepare you for this moment. This is the job, Allen. She is always going to be on the front line. If the two of you are going to be in a relationship, you have to get used to that.”

His shoulders sagging, Barry grumbled, “So how do you deal with this?”

Chyre’s heavy sigh made Barry wonder if the older man found the need to remain as stifling as he did. Office gossip said that he had been the longest-serving detective on the force, until a gunshot to the chest ended his career. He’d been given a choice: a desk job or early retirement, and though he’d chosen the former, in his heart, he was far more officer than politician. He carried the years on the job in every line on his face, and the weight of all those he’d known and lost in the line of duty lent a permanent stoop to once-squared shoulders. “How do you do with being the one left behind?” He didn’t answer for a long time, and when he did, Barry couldn’t tell if his words were an answer or a diversion. “Take a sip of your drink, son. Whenever the situation breaks, I’ll let you know.”

Barry could swear a year of his life passed over the next hour. After finishing his drink in the captain’s office, he couldn’t sit still any longer so he’d headed up to his lab. It didn’t take long for him to give up any pretense of work, so instead he tried to wear a hole in the floor with his pacing.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when the phone rang. “Yes?” The greeting was practically a yelp.

“Allen? It’s over. No casualties from the squad. Detective West is fine.” A wave of relief swept over him at Chyre’s words, and his hands actually trembled as he replaced the receiver. He lowered himself into the chair at his desk and rested his head in his hands until he heard a commotion below. Running out of his office, he fleew down the stairs as fast as he could. About halfway down he finally caught sight of her, and his entire world seemed to stop in its tracks.

Just as he had on his very first day in the precinct, Barry couldn’t tear his eyes away from her as she walked through the big double doors, her movements brisk and efficient. She said something over her shoulder to Riley, and though he couldn’t hear the words, he saw Lawton laugh in response. Unlike then, he knew her well enough now to see the slight sag in her shoulders that spoke of both weariness and relief. Her hands couldn’t seem to stay still, fluttering at her sides, the aftermath of an excess of adrenaline.

He had never seen anything so beautiful, and he sagged against the railing, for the moment unable to move in relief. At that moment, Iris turned her head and caught sight of him, herself stopping mid-stride as a wide smile broke across her face. It was enough to propel him into action again, and he jogged down the rest of the steps until she was close enough to touch. “You’re okay?” he breathed once he reached her side. The captain had said as much, but he needed to hear it from her.

“I’m okay,” she confirmed.

“Thank god,” he breathed. Then, heedless of the audience, departmental regulations, or ill-defined lines they had yet to draw in the sand, Barry wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in to a kiss. He needed her touch, her assurance that she was unharmed, even as he pushed away the knowledge that this wouldn’t be the last time his heart would stop as he waited for her. For the moment, it was enough just to have her in his arms.

As they pulled away from each other, Iris linked her fingers in his. “Lawton, would you -?”

“I’ll handle everything here,” he cut in. “I think you both probably have a couple sick days you can burn.”

Barry knew the captain wasn’t likely to let them get away with that kind of behavior often, but maybe just this once, he would understand and let it pass. He was still shaking as he lifted her hand to brush a soft kiss against the back of her palm. He needed nothing more than her presence, to feel the strength in her embrace. But perhaps he shouldn’t take it for granted that she needed the same thing. “Okay?” he asked, tacitly allowing her the chance to back out if she wanted.

Her gaze didn’t waver as she met his eyes. “Come on, Barry. Take me home.”


	7. Chapter 7

Although Iris had told Barry to take her home, when they made their way to the parking lot, she actually led him to her car. She was still feeling the aftermath of the adrenaline, too anxious to sit still, but focusing on the road on the drive back from the scene had helped a little. Barry didn’t protest; in fact, he didn’t say a word as he slid into his seat. He didn’t talk, as well, when she pulled out of the lot and started driving – not back to her home, but to his.

She wondered what he was thinking, but when she shot him a look out of the corner of her eye, his face was turned to the window. The backs of his ears, she discovered, were staggeringly uninformative. So she opened her mouth to try to break the silence, but she closed it again when nothing came to mind other than idle chatter.

This was not the time for idle chatter.

So they drove in silence back to his place, and stayed that way as the left the car and made their way through his front door. As soon as she kicked off her shoes, her shoulders sagged. The adrenaline had drained out of her, trailing a wave of exhaustion in its wake that slammed into her without warning. She tried to hide her yawn as Barry took off his shoes – being far more meticulous about the process than her haphazard kicking off of her own. But her hand was barely pressed to her mouth when he was at her side, coaxing her gently towards the bedroom.

Barry helped her into bed and moved to cover her with a downy comforter when she grabbed his hand, giving it a slight tug. His eyes met hers, questioning and uncertain, so she tugged on it again. Without argument, he crawled into bed beside her, wrapping his arms around her as he pulled the blanket over them both.

She couldn’t take the silence anymore. She had to know what he was thinking. She had seen his face when he’d come down the stairs to see her at the station. She’d seen his tension, the lingering fear, his relief at seeing her safe. She could only imagine what it had been like for him, waiting at the station for her to return, and she wanted him to know that he didn’t have to deal with his fear alone. Pressing her hand against his to hold it tighter against her chest, she murmured, “Barry?”

She felt his sigh lift the hair off the back of her neck. “Not yet, Iris,” he murmured. “Please. I’m sorry. I’m not ready to talk about it yet.”

She nodded slightly but she linked her fingers in his and held it tight. She needed his touch, to know he was still there with her. She closed her eyes, inhaling the soft scent of his cologne as she soothed away her lingering adrenaline and overwhelming exhaustion with the steady pattern of his breathing. She didn’t know when, but at some point, the stress and fatigue got to her, and she drifted off to sleep.

When she awoke again, it was to the soft sound of rain pattering against her windows. His windows, she corrected herself when she opened her eyes and took in the room around her. The décor wasn’t familiar, but the weight of the arm wrapped around her was. Barry.

In a moment, her morning came back to her, and she shifted, trying to look over her shoulder at her companion without waking him. But when she looked in his face, his eyes were open and met hers unwaveringly. His hair was rumpled, making her wonder if he too had slept.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said softly, and she barely heard his words as she tried to read his thoughts from the expression on his face. It gave nothing away, and she breathed a heavy breath, knowing it was time to discuss the events of the morning. She shifted so she could get a better look at him. He looked too serious, too grave, and she suddenly wondered she didn’t want to know what he was thinking at all 

“You didn’t,” she admitted, trying to pull her mind from its drowsy lull to focus on what his expression might mean. It hadn’t even occurred to her that he might doubting their relationship, fear of what the future might hold giving him second thoughts. It would not be the first time one of her relationships ended when the reality of her profession – the late nights, long hours, and occasional life-or-death situations – became too much to bear. But while she had gotten over those other relationships after a few drinks with friends, a few tears into a few pints of her favorite ice cream, what she felt for Barry was different from anything she’d felt before. She was truly afraid her heart wouldn’t recover if he broke it now. That heart was hammering in her chest as she ventured softly, “Barry –”

“I’ve been thinking,” he began.

Her mind scattered and she twisted in his arms, laying her hand against his heart in a silent plea that he would not do what she was afraid he might do. “I know.” She wanted to tell him not to give up on her, on them, but she didn’t know how to say the words, so she just held her breath.

His gaze fell to her mouth, as though he couldn’t meet her eyes any longer. She watched the muscles in his throat move as he swallowed heavily. “Iris, I was really scared today,” he admitted. “I thought – I thought I might lose you.” He brushed her hair off her face and she watched him swallow again before he could continue. “I suppose I never really let myself think about what could happen. I suppose I never wanted to. But I can’t keep doing that. I have to – I have to come to terms with the thought that you might take a call one day and not come back.” His hand trembled against her cheek, and though she was afraid of what he might be leading up to, she leaned into his touch, both offering and seeking comfort.

He sighed again. “I know I can’t be there with you, every time you go out in the field. If I were someone else, if I worked in the squad room, maybe. But that isn’t who I am and it never will be. And I can’t – I wouldn’t – ask you to give up your job. I know how important it is to you.” Her breath caught in her throat as he paused one more time. She wanted to argue with what he was saying, but instead she was silent and waited listening to him, letting the express the words he’d been bottling up ever since that quiet drive home.

She felt him pull his hand away and watched as he opened his mouth to speak, closed it, and opened it again. He still wasn’t meeting her eyes, but now that they had come to the point, he didn’t seem to know how to continue, what to say. Iris licked her lips quickly, pressed them together for a moment in an effort to ensure her voice wouldn’t tremble, and tried to be brave. “So what do you want to do?” If he said they shouldn’t see each other anymore, she was ready to convince him they were stronger together. But first, she needed to know whether he really would be too afraid to fight for what they had.

Barry tried for a wry smile, failed, and ran his fingers through his hair. “I want – I think – I want you to promise you’ll always come back to me,” he said, the last word almost swallowed when his voice cracked. “If you promise me you’ll always come back, I’ll believe you.”

Oh, god. Iris’s breath left her in a rush as she realized how wrong her assumption had been. But, then, Barry Allen never failed to subvert expectations. “Oh, Barry,” she murmured, grabbing his chin and lifting his face so she could look into his eyes. In truth, she didn’t really know what to say. The fact was, as much as she didn’t want to leave him, she might one day not have a choice in the matter. She was pragmatic about the risks that came with the job. She didn’t want to die in the line of duty, but how could she promise him she never would? “I – You know I can’t promise that,” she said with genuine regret. “I can’t promise what will happen in the future. You know how the job is –”

“[i]You[/i] can,” he retorted, interrupting her, his voice firm. “You can do anything you put your mind to. I think I’ve known that from the very first day I came to the precinct, when I watched you walk through those doors like you owned the place. Since then, I’ve only come to see how much it’s true. You’re amazing, Iris. You can do anything you put your mind to, and if you promise me that you’ll always come back to me…then you will. Or at least you’ll do everything in your power to try. And that’s enough.

“Iris, I know – I know how I come off. I mean, I know what people think of me. But I’m realistic. I know we can’t predict the future. You could be ki - injured on the job. I could get hit by a bus crossing the street. But I know – I know – I will always do whatever I can to make it back to you. Anything it takes, I will do it. I just – I need –”

“Barry, if you know me, then you know that I’m stubborn. I don’t give up on something I believe in. And I believe in you. I believe in us. So if you think that there’s anything on this earth that could keep me from coming back to you? Just try and stop me.” She grinned. “You won’t get rid of me that easily, Allen.”

His lips trembled, the edges curving into a tentative smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I promise.”

Barry’s smile grew as he leaned down and brushed a kiss against her lips. He paused, breathing her in, and then his lips met hers again. Iris cupped his face in hers and held him close as she deepened the kiss, sweeping her tongue along the curve of his lower lip. Her hands pressed against his chest, she pushed him back and threw her leg across his hips, shifting her weight to straddle him.

“Uh, Iris?” His voice was nervous and unsure, making her chuckle. “Are you certain –?”

“God, yes,” she breathed against his mouth. “I’ve been certain for a long time.”

Like a breaking dam, her words shattered his willpower. He growled and lifted her, repositioning her on his lap before sitting up and pulling her against him. Iris reached for his tie – only Barry would wear a bowtie during a nap – but he grabbed her hand to stop her. “Wait,” he breathed. “I’ve thought about this for a long time.” She arched her eyebrows at him but she didn’t protest. Instead, she rested her palms on his shoulders and watched as he brushed the hair back from her shoulders. His eyes took her in like he was trying to memorize every line of her face, and then he leaned in and pressed a kiss against the curve of her throat.

There was nothing about the shy and uncertain Barry Allen in the man who slowly unbuttoned her shirt, exposing the red and black lacy braw beneath. She threw her head back and moaned as he kissed a path from her neck to her shoulders, across the bony ridge of her collarbone, and caught her breath when his teeth scraped gently at the sensitive skin below her ear.

His hands were gentle as he pushed her shirt off her shoulders. She tossed it aside as he ran his fingertips down the chest, tracing the curve of her bra. Frustrated by his teasing, Iris reached behind her and smoothly unhooked her bra, letting it slide off her shoulders and into her lap.

Barry went still. “Oh, my god,” he breathed, leaning her back so he could bend to flick his tongue across a nipple before sucking it into his mouth. Iris purred and arched her back as he ran his tongue along the curve of her breast, pressing against him. She didn’t feel him unbutton her pants, but she did feel the moment he slipped his hand under the line of her panties and slid his fingers inside her.

“Okay, no more patience,” she growled, pressing him back down. He laughed as she yanked at his bowtie and almost ripped his shirt pulling it open. The bed was narrow enough to be downright hazardous, almost sending her tumbling to the floor as the wrestled out of the remainder of their clothing. When she sank onto him, his breath came out in a sharp hiss, his arm like a vice around her waist.

“Iris,” he groaned in exasperation and pleasure as she rocked against him hard. “I’m trying to go slow –”

“Next time,” she gasped, increasing her pace. “Go slow next time.”

His laugh was a harsh rasp. She could swear he said something that sounded like, “Well, all right,” and then his fingers were digging into her hips and he was matching her rhythm as he surged against her, their bodies growing slick with sweat. When she felt herself go over the edge, she pressed her mouth against his, swallowing his echoing groan of pleasure.

Later, as the lay together, his arms wrapped around her as she tucked against his body, he laid a soft kiss on her shoulder and murmured, “Hey, Iris?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

She grinned against his chest. “I love you too.” They fell silent for another minute, basking in the moment. Then she leaned back and prompted, “Hey, Barry?”

He looked down at her, pillowing his head on one arm as he traced lazy patterns on her bare skin but she didn’t continue until he replied in kind, “Yeah?”

“When we get married one day? We’re getting a bigger bed. I can’t believe you sleep in this thing!” 

She saw his wide grin, then she saw him struggle to hide it. “When we get married?”

Iris nodded. “When.”

Barry feigned a frown. “Well, I don’t know, Detective. Are you sure you’re ready to make an honest man out of me? I’m quite the rebel, you know. Hard to tie down.”

She smiled. “Oh, yeah? What is the worst thing you’ve done this week? Just so I know the challenge ahead of me.”

He scratched the back of his head in thought. “You know the donuts in the break room yesterday? I took the last bear claw, even though I knew Riley wanted it.”

Iris fought back a smile. “Oh, that is dangerous,” she said in a grave tone.

He nodded. “I thought so.”

“I can see I’m going to have my work cut out for me, with you. But I suppose you’re worth it.”

She watched as the grin slowly took over his face, the corners of his lips twitching until they parted, finally setting his laugh free. His eyes sparked, the edges crinkling a little, and the way he looked down at her took her breath away. “You really want to marry me?”

Feeling inexplicably shy all of a sudden, Iris lowered her chin onto his chest. “Well…yes. Someday,” she mumbled in a sheepish tone.

She felt his arm move but didn’t raise her chin again until he said, “Well, then, I guess I should give you this.”

When she looked up with a start, she saw he was holding a tiny box in his hand. “Barry, you didn’t – that isn’t – is it?”

It was. He expression growing serious, he flipped back the lid showing a solitaire diamond ring. “Iris, I’ve spent the last couple of weeks trying to figure out how I would give you this one day, trying to find the right place, the right words. And if you’re just joking now and you’re not ready for this step, that’s fine. I’ll wait. Like I told you once, you do what you need to do, and when you’re done, I’ll be here waiting.

“But when I say I love you and I want to marry you, I want you to know I mean it. I’ve been half in love with you from that very first day in the precinct. I don’t know when I fell completely in love with you, but it’s been at least since you gave me that bowtie and told me not to fall for you.”

She was staring at the ring in his hand, still somewhat unable to believe he actually had one. She wondered how long he’d been holding on to it, how long he’d known he wanted to marry her one day. She should say something profound and meaningful, but all that came to mind was, “I told you I’m not the kind of girl to pin your dreams on.”

He nodded, one side of his mouth lifting into a smile. “I told you that you’re exactly that kind of girl. And I was right. However much time you need to be ready, that’s fine. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I’d do anything to make you happy. If you want me to buy a new bed, I’ll buy a new bed. If you want me to –”

“Barry?” she interjected.

He trailed off with what he’d been saying to respond instead, “Yeah?”

“Would you shut up and kiss me before you put that ring on my finger?”

Barry grinned again. “Yes, ma’am.”


	8. Chapter 8

“I need you to be straight with me, Iris,” Barry murmured, his voice a serious undertone, as he threaded his fingers through her own. “How worried should I be right now?”

She threw him an encouraging smile. “My dad isn’t that scary!” she protested in a soft voice, so she wouldn’t be overheard by the man in question.

“If we could trade places, I think you’d disagree,” he pointed out, but he offered her a small smile as he squeezed her hand.

Just then, Joe walked back into the room, carrying a large bowl of noodles. Iris saw his gaze go to their entwined hands and heard his soft, disdainful sniff, but though she felt Barry’s hand tense, he didn’t let go. “So,” Joe asked, placing the serving bowl on the table between them, “Not that I’m not always happy to have my baby girl over for dinner, but is there any particular reason for this unexpected visit?”

Iris and Barry exchanged a glance, but her fiancé spoke before she could. “Yes, sir. Iris – ah – _we_ have some news and wanted you to be the first to know.” He paused and swallowed heavily before continuing. “I asked Iris to marry me today and she said yes.”

Silence fell between them as Iris looked from Barry to her dad. He didn’t look particularly surprised – their nervousness had to make him suspicious, at least – but neither did he look particularly pleased. The silence stretched uncomfortably long before he finally responded. “Hmph.”

Squeezing Barry’s fingers, Iris shot him a quick look and raised her eyebrows at him. Picking up on her unspoken question, Barry cleared his throat. “Uh…Joe? Do you have a restroom I could use?”

“No, my house wasn’t built with one,” he deadpanned.

“It’s down the hall, second door to the right,” Iris hastily interjected. As soon as her fiancé disappeared around the corner, she whirled back towards her father, her eyes narrowing. “Dad –” she began.

“It was just a joke! Kid can’t even take a joke?” he cut in, sitting back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest.

Iris frowned. “You know, you’d like him if you got to know him.” His only response was a skeptical snort. “He’s a good man!”

Joe sighed, but his voice softened when he replied, “I’m sure he is, but…isn’t this a little fast? You haven’t known him that long!”

“I’ve known him long enough to know that he’s the man I want to marry. You may think this is too soon, but we could wait another ten years and it wouldn’t change anything. I would still love him, and I would still want to marry him.”

Her father scowled. “I know I don’t know him very well, but it didn’t take me very long to see that he isn’t good enough for you,” he grumbled in a low protest. “I know you don’t want to hear that, but I’m your father. It’s my job to worry about you.”

She bit back her immediate response to that, remembering that she was talking to her father, and that his overprotectiveness had always come from a place of love. She sucked in a deep breath, taking a moment to regain her calm and gather her thoughts, and then said in a firm voice, “I know you love me, Dad, and I know you only want what’s best for me. But this is a decision I can make for myself. I love Barry; I want to spend the rest of my life with him. And he loves me. He’s good to me. If you can’t see it for yourself, then take my word for it: everything you’ve ever wanted for me? That’s what I have with him.”

She couldn’t tell if she was getting through to him, so she reached out and covered his hand with her own. “I didn’t come here to ask for permission. I’m going to marry Barry. He’s the best man I’ve ever known; he makes me happier than I ever thought I could be. I don’t need your blessing, but I had hoped that you could at least be happy for me.”

Their eyes locked for a long moment, and then Joe wrapped his hand around hers and gave it a tug, pulling her to her feet as he rose. Scooting around the table, he wrapped his arms around her in a hug. “Of course I’m happy for you, baby. If he makes you happy – if he treats you right – that’s all that matters.”

He brushed a kiss across her temple, and Iris felt her body relax as she broke into a wide smile. Though it was true she didn’t need her father’s permission, having his support meant the world to her. She was still smiling when Barry returned, hovering at the entryway, and she held out a hand to him, silently beckoning him to her.

His face breaking into a relieved grin, Barry stepped forward and put one hand on the small of her back, clasping the hand Joe was offering in the other.

“Well, Bartholomew, I suppose congratulations are in order,” Joe said in a gruff voice as they shook hands. “You be good to her, and you and I won’t have any problems.”

“Yes sir,” Barry replied.

Clearing his throat, Joe stepped back and rubbed his eyes with one hand. “Ah…the food is getting cold. You guys sit; I’ll be right back.”

Iris brushed her lips across Barry’s as her dad ducked back into the kitchen. “He’ll come around, you know. I love you. One day, he’ll love you, too.”

He shook his head. “It’s okay,” he reassured her. “He’s your father; of course he’s going to be protective of you. You obviously mean the world to him.”

Framing his face between her hands, she murmured, “And you mean the world to me.” 

His gaze dropped to her mouth. “Yeah?”

Iris grinned, leaning in for another kiss. “Yeah,” she reassured him. “You are too cute, Barry Allen.”

The kiss broke off when she heard someone clear their throat. Sitting back, she felt her cheeks grow warm as she threw her father a guilty look. He didn’t comment; he just asked, “So, are we going to eat before dinner is completely ruined, or what?”

* * *

Iris grinned as she kissed Barry goodbye and breezed through the precinct doors. There was something so natural about the two of them driving in to work together, and she snuck a quick glance at her engagement ring, still somewhat marveling that it was all real. She could already picture the two of them walking side-by-side through these same front doors for the next forty years, and it just felt right.

She knew she should probably be preoccupied with her cold case; after all, their warrant had just come through, and S.T.A.R. Labs had sent over a prototype of the machine Barry wanted to use to try to extract DNA from the old crime scene. Barry and Spivot were headed to the scene now, escorted by Riley and two rookies, Hassan and Beck. She wasn’t surprised the captain had made that call, once they had broken the news to him over the phone that morning. For the time being, there would be even greater oversight on any case they worked on together, at least until a new CSI could be brought in.

But even though she knew what she should be doing, she couldn’t stop thinking about her fiancé, imagining their future life together. As she made her way to her desk, she could almost feel the moment that her co-workers noticed her engagement ring. Of course, she hadn’t thought it would escape them for long. They were detectives; they were trained to be observant.

Finally, the silence was broken by her partner letting out a loud whoop. He started to clap, and the rest of the squad joined in – a few of them whistling and calling out some good-natured jokes. Iris tried to hide her smile behind a scowl and rolled her eyes. “All right; all right! That’s enough, you guys!”

They didn’t seem deterred; in fact, their teasing only grew louder. However, silence feel immediately fell throughout the room when the captain walked out of his office and looked out over the squad. “West!” he barked.

She jumped to her feet, but he just grunted and then said in a softer voice, “Congratulations.” He paused and then shot her a stern look. “After the wedding, you’re taking time off for a honeymoon, I don’t care what the work load is. And that’s an order.”

Iris grinned at him, touched. But, then again, it was the worst-kept secret in the department that beneath their captain’s tough-as-nails exterior, there was an unexpected sweetness and sentimentality. “Yes, sir,” she agreed. He just grunted and walked back into his office, closing the door behind him.

She had just started flipping through her stack of messages when Lawton scooted next to her and perched on the edge of her desk. “You heard the good news, right?” he asked eagerly. “About the warrant.” At her nod, he continued, “You want to go pick up our suspect? We can lean on him a little while Allen and Spivot run the tests.”

Iris tossed the messages back on her desk and leaned back in her chair. “Let’s wait until we get the results. I think we may get more results if we make him sweat a bit.” At her partner’s curious look, she explained, “You were the one who thought he never moved because he liked looking over at the house, remembering what it was he did there and that he got away with it. So I suggested to Barry that he take a few uniformed officers along and not worry too much about keeping a subtle police presence.”

He made a thoughtful noise in the back of his throat as he swiped his fingers across his chin. “You think that’ll be enough to rattle him?”

She grinned and said lightly, “I may have also suggested that Beck and Hassan go door to door and reassure the residents that there’s no cause for concern; they’re just recovering some evidence from an old cold case in the area. We’d hate to cause alarm in the community, wouldn’t we?”

At this, he broke down and laughed. “That’s pretty devious, West.” He glanced down at the case file, sitting in its usual place on the top of a stack on his partner’s desk, and then said quietly, “You know, in a few hours, we might finally have an answer to give that little girl.”

Her gaze followed his, and she nodded slowly. Lost in the gravity of the moment, she didn’t bother to point out that she wasn’t so little anymore. “For right now, there’s nothing we can do until the tests are done,” she agreed. She sat back with a sigh. She was normally a pretty patient woman, but this wasn’t going to be an easy wait – in no small part because she couldn’t even track down Barry to help her pass the time.

* * *

“Is it done yet?” Barry asked, trying not to fidget as he looked over Patty’s shoulder.

She snorted. “It hasn’t even gone into the machine yet, Allen.” She threw him a quick glance. “You know how long this takes as long as I do. Unless you can find a way to speed up the laws of physics, it’s going to take a while.”

He huffed and began to pace again. “I know,” he admitted. “But Ir – uh, Detective West is hoping this can finally bring some good news for the victim’s daughter. It would be nice to know if, after all these years, she can close the case.”

Patty chuckled. “You know, everyone knows she’s your fiancée. Nobody would be surprised if you called her by name,” she teased, making him blush. Watching him closely, she said, her voice soft and slightly wistful, “She’s a very lucky woman, you know. Detective West, I mean.”

It took a moment for the words to sink in, and then Barry brushed his hair off his forehead as he looked at her with a small, confused frown. “Why? Because I worked with her on this case? I mean, I would do anything for Iris, but I didn’t do this for her. I did it because…it’s like she said. Everyone deserves justice.”

“That’s not what I – never mind. It’s not important,” she said with a small shake of her head. Clearing her throat, she stepped back and gestured at the machine. “Anyway, I can’t make this go any faster and you’re going to drive yourself crazy at this rate.” She nodded towards his desk. “I promise to bring the results to you as soon as I know anything.”

Taking her unsubtle hint, Barry sighed and trudged his way back to his own work. This was one time he wasn’t finding it easy to be patient, but he would have to try.

A few hours later, Patty cleared her throat behind his chair, causing him to jump. When he spun to face her, however, he couldn’t read anything in the expression on her face. “Well?” he breathed.

“I ran the tests twice. There were positive traces of your guy’s blood on the windowsill.” She grinned and held the file out for him to review, and he grabbed it with a happy cry. Before he could even ask, she offered, “You know, I can watch over your stuff here if you want to go take that down to her.”

Barry jumped to his feet; he was so happy to finally have found a break in the case, he could have hugged her. But she wasn’t the person he most wanted to see, so with a quick word of thanks, he darted out the door and ran down to Iris’s desk. Of course, he knew this wasn’t over just yet – Iris would still want to make the arrest and try to get a confession. She’d also need to contact the victim’s daughter with the news. Regardless, whatever happened next, they finally had some an answer to what had happened in that apartment that night. They could finally put the victim to rest and give her daughter some peace.

* * *

That night, when Barry had closed down his lab and walked downstairs, he wasn’t surprised to find Iris sitting at her desk. She was so beautiful, her face illuminated by the soft light of her desk light as she bent over a stack of reports, he couldn’t help but stare. Was it wonder that she drew him like a moth to a flame?

Iris looked up when he approached her desk, and her face broke into a gentle smile. “Hey, you,” she greeted him softly.

“Hey,” he greeted her in return. “How did it go today?”

She knew what he was asking about and leaned back in her chair with a tired smile. “As well as could be expected,” she replied. “He was pretty cocky when he came in, but those test results were just what we needed. The second he realized we had evidence, it’s like he shut down. It took a couple more hours, but we got a full confession.”

“And her daughter?”

Iris’s eyes were sad as she reached for his hand. “She took it as well as could be expected. I mean, she was happy to finally know the truth, but…it’s still hard.” Squeezing his fingers, she added, “You know, I couldn’t have done this without you. Thank you. For everything. Coming up with that idea…you’re incredible, you know that?”

Barry ducked his head. “You don’t have to thank me, Iris,” he said softly. Then, wanting to change the subject, he nodded towards the reports she’d been perusing. “New case?”

As if realizing his discomfort, didn’t press the subject. Instead, she nodded and let go of his hand so she could stretch, working out some kinks in her neck. “That’s what I’m trying to decide. There have been some strange reports lately, and I’m wondering if it could be a new metahuman.”

Scooting behind her, Barry peered over her shoulder and skimmed one of the statements. “All they saw was a dark blur, like a black shadow? You think that’s a metahuman?”

Her nose wrinkling, Iris nodded. “Maybe. Some kind of super speed?” she suggested. “If I’m right and these are all sighting of someone with some kind of new speed-based superpower, I’m a little worried; his behavior seems to be escalating.”

Barry frowned slightly, mulling it over. “If you want, I can put all of this into my database. See if I can find anything that might help.”

“Maybe tomorrow,” she agreed on a yawn, leaning over to switch off her light. “But these reports will keep. I’d rather spend the rest of my night with you.”

She rose to her feet and reached for her bag, but before she could grab it, Barry took her hand and pulled her into the pool of moonlight spilling through the precinct windows. From the moment he’d come downstairs and seen her, he’d had an irresistible impulse, and he didn’t know why he should put temptation off any longer. At her curious look, he twirled her around and around. “What are you up to?” she asked on a laugh.

“Well, our last dance was interrupted. It seems like a good time to pick up where we left off.”

“Here? In the middle of the precinct?” she asked, though she wrapped her arms around his neck when he pulled her close and began to sway.

Tilting his head to the side, he murmured. “Why not? This is where I fell in love with you. And when I came down here tonight – when I come down here every night – I fall in love with you all over again.”

He felt her sigh as she leaned into him. “How do you do that?” she murmured. His brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of her question, but she just shook her head with a slight smile. Then, in a teasing voice, she pointed out, “You know, there’s no music.”

“I guess not,” he agreed, raising a hand to push his glasses higher up on his nose. It wasn’t hard to think of a song that reminded him of her, but he didn’t know if he had a good enough singing voice to do it justice – or to prevent what he hoped was a romantic gesture from becoming utterly ridiculous. Before he could second-guess himself, he began to sing, _“Moonlight becomes you; it goes with your hair. You certainly know the right thing to wear. You’re all_ – no, wait.” He paused, his forehead wrinkled with a slight frown, and then admitted sheepishly, “You know, I just realized I’m not really sure what comes next. Maybe I don’t know it as well as I thought I did.” Ridiculous, indeed.

He heard her chuckle and felt the soft touch of her hand where she threaded her fingers in his hair. Before he could think of another song, not wanting this moment with her to end, she continued for him. For a woman who was confident in so many things, she seemed uncertain, her voice soft and tentative, _“Moonlight becomes you; I’m thrilled at the sight. And I could get so romantic tonight.”_

Barry broke into a wide grin; he loved the woman in his arms so much. In the moonlight, her eyes sparked, and her skin seemed to almost glow. If he could ask for any power in that moment, it would be the power to stop time, to let this moment last forever. But, then again, perhaps not – Iris had a way of making every day better than the last. With more enthusiasm and joy than skill, he spun the two of them around in a large circle, waiting to hear her gleeful cry before he continued, _“You’re all dressed up to go dreaming; now don’t tell me I’m wrong. And what a night to go dreaming. Mind if I tag along?”_

They came to a stop under the windows, and Iris pulled him down to rest her forehead against his own and finished the song for him, _“If I say I love you, I want you to know. It’s not just because there’s moonlight, although…moonlight becomes you so.”_

He kissed her and pulled her close, almost lifting her off her feet. When she finally broke off the kiss and leaned back, she teased, “Wait a minute. Are you getting frisky with me, CSI Barry Allen?”

“Only if you let me, Detective West,” he returned with a grin.

His grin faded to a soft smile as he stared at her, not saying anything as he soaked her in. He would never get over being able to hold her like this – or how beautiful she was in this moment. “What are you thinking about?” she finally asked, breaking the silence.

“You,” he admitted. “I’m glad I pinned my dreams on you.”

Pulling him down to her, Iris breathed against his lips, “Yeah? So am I.”

And then, with the moonlight spooling around them, Barry cupped her face in his palms and lost himself in a kiss with the most beautiful woman he had ever known.


End file.
